The one thing I miss most since becoming a mother is having time. Time to myself, time to think, time to do nothing. Nothing in this sense includes reading a book, having a hot cup of coffee and, oh the glamour, going to the toilet alone.

What a precious present though to be sent on a spa/yoga/detox trip to Koh Samui. It was my husband’s Christmas present to me last year, and vice versa. Big M went in March, coming back all zen and detox’ed, trying to talk me out of my wine o’clock habit. Not a chance in hell. However, his week-long visit to Kamalaya has had a long lasting impression on him. So much that he finds more solace in meditating than watching Top Gear and still sticks to drinks at weekends only. Well, mostly anyway.

I have been asked if I wouldn’t miss my children. Of course, I am going to miss my children. And my husband. What really annoys me about this question is the slightly accusing undertone of ‘how on earth can you leave your children behind’. I assume the answer is ‘just like my husband did’.

I am refusing to let Mother’s Guilt ruin this trip. I will come back refreshed, with a clear head and, hopefully, with clear skin. And I’ll write postcards.