Sadly at my stage in life with kids still very much in tow, an MPV is the best car for the job, i.e. transporting the little darlings and their friends about and filling the car up with far too much luggage and essential toys for those painful holidays. Frankly I’d much rather stay at home.

So for now I feel stuck with this mode of transport, never having considered what a burden it would become. I wonder whether those yummy mummies and their lovely 4×4 yummy mummy cars get sick of their chosen vehicle. I doubt it, possibly because they change it every year.

I always feel that I reflect the type of car I’m driving – internally at least – and I feel I become what I drive…

That’s to say, harassed mother, constantly shopping in order to keep the fridge full of food for hungry teenagers (a losing battle) sensible clothes and shoes so that I’m comfortable when I’m driving as well as being able to transport said shopping without breaking a leg.

Always in a rush as I’ve never learnt to time-manage despite husband giving me lessons. I just don’t think he gets what home life and childcare is all about and tries to deal with me as he would an annoying, slightly useless colleague. I told him a little tale the other day I thought quite amusing, but all he did was repeat it back to me in a more succinct way so that next time I wouldn’t drivel on and waste his precious time!

I like to think I’m part of a group of mums in the same boat, but when I look around, I feel somewhat isolated:

From the earth mother who is so patient with her kids, always looks smart and floats along, to my friend down the road who gets out of her very sensible car and then sashays down the road looking gorgeous and unflustered. She was a model in her former life and my does it show.

Another bounces along despite what life has thrown at her and of course then there’s the rock chick who always looks as if she’s just got out of bed, but still manages to exude femininity and style despite shoving her kids in her MPV before whisking them off to some private school in a posh part of London.

The moral of this tale? If you have to drive an MPV, choose one that’s practical but more importantly stylish. The Citroen C3 Picasso fits the bill perfectly I think. Then you can drive your vehicle with your head held high, exuding confidence and calm, knowing you look good on the outside even if on the inside you’re a total mess.

How I wish for a simple, yet stylish, utilitarian vehicle that I could actually use myself without the need for some strong arms. The Skoda Roomster instantly popped into my head. I no longer dream of fast, stylish cars that only seat two, but at least with the Roomster I would have some style, and I could single-handedly put the seats in whatever position I wanted.

It’s a great little tool.However, I digress… I had aquired a rather fantastic old chair that was in need of a complete make-over. So off we went to a local upholsterer that I had passed many times but never had the need to venture in. Frankly, it’s in a slightly scary part of town where I’d prefer not to stop.

It was a fascinating experience on so many levels, and afterwards I was rather relieved that John (seat-moving husband) and his strength had had to come along.

Having dropped my prancing daughter at her dance class we proceeded up the ramp of a former multi-story car-park which was now being used to house light industrial units. There seemed to be so much going on first thing on a Staurday morning. What a brilliant use of space.

The chair has been left there – rather it than me – with a very tall, exotic gentleman, whose office looked as if it had come from some old manor house (apart from the fact it was all so fake-looking). It was a bit like time travel – on one side of the door was a dirty, breeze-block industrial unit and on the other, a room with a fire, overstuffed armchairs, bookshelves (with fake books), an elaborate mantle piece and bolts of fabric elegantly lying around.

Not only that, but I was faced with the owner in jodpurs, riding boots, greased back hair and waistcoat! Kilburn if nothing if not suprising… So while dreaming of a flexible, easy-to-use Skoda Roomster, allowing me my independence, in actual fact when I go to collect my chair I’ll be rather pleased to have to have husband on hand to remove the seats for me.

Sometimes it’s rather a relief to give into the stereotypical female role – before I snap out of it and give him a list of chores for the weekend!