this wasn't in the script

I was rescheduling a holiday recently and caught myself thinking: "Surely after this, things will settle down." It is a phrase that appears with remarkable regularity in adult conversation. After this project. After this school term. After this month. After this busy patch. We convince ourselves that just beyond the current horizon, things will finally become easier. The interesting thing about the "after this" trap is that the boundary line always seems to move. The project

I was running to the gate. Final boarding call. There is nothing quite like a flight departure to expose exactly how little control we actually have over our lives. We arrive at airports with carefully planned itineraries, confirmation emails, estimated arrival times and a quiet confidence that preparation is enough to keep things under control. Then, almost immediately, the system starts improvising. Flights are delayed. Gates are changed. Unexpected weather systems introduc

I was standing behind the television trying to work out which cord connected to what. At some point, major technology decisions in my house appear to have been quietly delegated to my in-house IT support. Who is my son. I was attempting to connect a Nintendo Switch and waiting for further instructions via Snapchat. Which felt like a surprisingly fragile position for someone who had spent years leading teams and navigating organisational complexity. My qualifications, experien

My children once gave me a Mother's Day card describing me as "CEO." Honestly, it wasn't entirely inaccurate. On paper, we spend our lives managing the highly visible roles that people can easily see. Executive. Partner. Mother. Caregiver. But underneath those official titles, there is a particular kind of competence that develops over time. It's the invisible job description. This is the kind of competence that remembers who needs to be where and when. Family Uber driver for