I want to talk about time. I remember when my son was little. He was a challenging baby. He only slept for 3/4hr day and night until he was coming up to his first birthday. He was crawling at five and a half months and walking at eight. I spent my waking hours exhausted. (I also now realise I was suffering from depression.) If I was dressed and had cleaned my teeth by the time my husband came home, I called it a win. I spent a vast amount of that time wishing for time to move

I am coming up to another birthday and I have been contemplating ageing, and how my definition of “old” has changed as I have added to my...