Glass splinters

Back in June, during our days of political turmoil in the UK, a friend texted me to say that her six-year old daughter had stated Theresa May couldn't become prime minister because she was a "lady". Needless to say, her mum - who works in the City - soon set her straight. But when May finally took office, my first thought was that a new generation of girls could now grow up thinking they too were entitled to aim for the top job.

It feels like there is a new era dawning for women leaders and clearly I am not the only person to be thinking about the importance of female role models. On Tuesday, after Hillary Clinton officially became the Democratic Party's nominee for the next US President, she told the cheering crowd:

"If there are any little girls out there who stayed up late to watch, let me just say I may become the first woman President. But one of you is next."

Super-Mummy-spook

Hermaphrodite Mum
Three kids and a single mum

I'm just off to analyse some intelligence and plan a few operations in the field. What? You haven't heard about my new job as an intelligence officer for MI6? Super-Mummy-spook? That's where it's at these days. Our Secret Intelligence Service is recruiting mummies. And about time too, I say! If you want a job done properly, ask a mother. Who else has a sense of perfectionism, bordering on O.C.D., as well as the ability to juggle several different lives? I am just glad that HM's Government has finally seen the light.

Shh! Don't look now: Mummy's undercover!

In case you think I am pulling your leg, look no further than Mumsnet's Jobs round-robin email last week. Second down on the list after an advert for Advance Production Operators at the biscuit company, McVities, there was a post seeking full-time MI6 Intelligence Officers. At last, I thought, a proper job for the working mother - assignments overseas protecting national interests. That fits around the school run and Christmas concerts, right? 

Once we were cute...

When my daughter was little, people used to stop us in the airport and say, "Aw, how cute!" I would glow with pride, as if I was the first mother ever to have a cute child. Then it was my son's turn. I still remember the holiday when he started to garner all the attention, after my daughter tipped over from chubby toddler into gawky school-age child. Now, no one stops us anymore. Our collective 'cute' factor is pretty much zilch.

There are, however, consolations. Scoring zero on the cute scale means that my hand luggage no longer contains an impressive, Mary Poppins-style inventory of nappies, baby wipes, calpol, healthy snacks, toys, books and a fresh set of clothes (for everyone). These days it's just an ipad and a packet of sweets.

And when the kids go back to school at the beginning of term, I actually miss their company. There's a good reason why small children are cute: they are also HIGH maintenance. As scientist Konrad Lorenz argued in the 1940s, infantile features, such as big eyes and chubby cheeks, are designed to trigger a nurturing instinct in adults. These days my children may not be so adorable, but they can self-entertain during the holidays. 

Just look at those little faces!

It's the same with puppies. If my new Labrador hadn't looked so damn cute while he was weeing all over the kitchen floor and chewing up school shoes, we would have given up on him long ago. He's big and brawny now, but a lot easier to look after.