Saturday 19th September 11.30 a.m Shhhh….my month old baby boy, Freddie, is asleep. As blissful as it is to see him snoozing, content after a feed, this poses something of a problem for me. All the experts agree that when your new baby sleeps you should sleep, but as delightful as the prospect of a few snatched minutes of dreamless oblivion seems, were I to doze off now then all the million things that need to be done – a mountain of baby clothes laundry, a month’s worth of house work, a guest blog for Fresh Fiction and not to mention the beginings of a new novel – will not get done. Again. And the sun will set on another day when I consider myself a high achiever for having got myself dressed in time to get my eight year old daughter to school and back again whilst remembering to brush my hair – a consideration that is probably not that accurate now that the world now seems to be entirely populated by women (Yummy Mummies, as they are known in the UK) who emerge half an hour after childbirth, with a washboard stomach, hair perfect, on trend outfit color…