13 things they don’t tell you when you’re pregnant with baby number two/ things you should have realised:

1. You used to think you were tired all the time. HAHA. Baby number two is going to make a stint in Guantanamo Bay look like fucking Butlins.

2. Pelvic floor… fucked. Don’t laugh, you’ll wet yourself.

3. Stomach muscles… fucked. Don’t wear a bikini.

4. Social life… fucked. Nobody wants to babysit a four year old and a baby at the same time.

5. Nappies are expensive. Were they this expensive four years ago? Or does this child just shit more than the first one?

6. Baby milk is expensive. Wonder how you’ve managed to wrack up 50 quid in Tesco with naff all in your basket? It’s baby number two’s fault.

7. You still need to look after the first child you gave birth to. Even if you’ve been up all night with baby number two, baby number one is still going to be waking you up at 6am to tell you he’s pissed the bed and he wants to play dinosaurs and he wants you to be the mummy dinosaur and he will be the baby dinosaur and he wants his breakfast right now but not toast because he doesn’t like toast any more and not cereal because cereal isn’t what baby dinosaurs eat.

8. Cereal is all mummy dinosaurs eat.

9. Your first child will inevitably feel a bit left out and start doing stuff for attention when baby number two is crying – ‘look what I can do mummy, I can put my todgy between my legs’, ‘look what I can do mummy, I can kick this ball at the window really hard’, ‘look what I can do mummy, I can spin around really fast without even falling over’.

10. Your washing basket will never, ever be empty again. There’s dirty pants circa December 2015 at the bottom of mine.

11. You’ll start to see going to the toilet on your own as a real luxury; a lonesome toilet break is the equivalent of an afternoon in a spa.

12. Nobody comes to see your second child. They came to see your first one – what do you want? Blood?

13. Remember the memory box you’ve got in the loft? The one with a million things to show your first born when he’s older; a newspaper from the day he was born, cards you received on his arrival, scan photos. You can’t be arsed the second time round.