32 Watching Loose Women with the subtitles on

For me, it all started a couple of years back with Deadwood. For those unfamiliar with this superior US drama, it’s set in a lawless 1870s goldrush camp and stars Ian ‘Lovejoy’ McShane as a Machiavellian saloon owner. Pride and Prejudice this ain’t, with profuse swearing and brothels on every corner. The language that the characters speak is almost Shakespearian in its eloquence and wit, some of it apparently even written in iambic pentameters – and with subtitles on I found I was able to appreciate it to a whole new level. Then came The Wire. I had no idea what the hell was going on at the start, only that it looked a bit scary. But the jargon of Baltimore's inner city drug runners suddenly became poetic – rather than plain incomprehensible – with the subtitles switched permanently to ‘on’. Before long I was watching loads of things with subtitles on – films, Frasier, Mad Men.

And then I had my baby and subtitles really came into their own. With the constant crying, gurgling, babbling and plinky tunes that now forms the background noise of life, subtitles are no longer handy for catching those missed witticisms and asides, they are darn well crucial for following the plot. OK, I know Loose Women doesn’t have a plot but you know what I mean (actually live subtitles tend to be annoyingly hit and miss, it has to be said - see above image).

Now if I don’t have subtitles on for anything other than Teletubbies, I feel I am trying to play snooker underwater or the piano blind-folded. I never realised quite how much dialogue I missed before as 'method' actors fashionably mumble, grunt and slur their way through scripts. For instance, the brilliant new 30 Rock on Five USA doesn't have subtitles, unlike the DVD box set - and I find it irritating beyond belief when I do miss the odd line here and there.

Anyway. Subtitles. Try them. I promise you’ll be hooked before you know it too.

26 Talking About Babies (2)

We like talking about babies because if we didn't we'd explode. Unlike our days pre-mummyhood, which were semi-predictable and comprehensible in comparison (and dang it, didn't we blabber anyway - bluddy work, bluddy tube, bluddy wobbly tummy), our days post-baby are impossible to predict and thoroughly flummoxing (bluddy potty training, bluddy buggy, bluddy wobbly tummy). If we couldn't blather on about it to somebody else (mummy or not) we'd end up, probably, chewing temazepam to keep our mouths busy with something. Which women did, in droves, before we woke up to the fact that - actually - we COULD admit to ourselves that motherhood was just slightly more difficult than we'd presupposed.

At around the same time being a mother was accepted as a valid 'role', society realised that children and babies weren't only to be 'seen and not heard' but little people with real feelings. Instead of leaving them at the bottom of the garden to 'exercise their lungs' mothers went with them to the bottom of the garden and pointed out the flowers. So sue us that we found our 10-month-old's first word "fowa" as cute. At least we heard them. And instead of smacking them into submission we cared to find some other ways of disciplining. Ones that involved rather more thought - and, woe betide us - some discussion with others! And, for better or worse, advice gleaned from books and websites.

And we talk about babies because we have to. Modern motherhood is a talking point because today's hi-tech fast-food world is frought with obstacles and contradictions. We are harangued to breastfeed from the off but are treated as pariahs in public life when we do. We are told to get back to work and pop the poppets into pre-school at 2 years old [never mind the finances never add up]. Next day we're told we're selfish cows for wanting some independence and to go home and knit some sustainable wool nappies [this time the finances definitely don't add up]. We are told by our own mothers we're doing everything wrong and are told by society we are doing everything wrong. Is there any surprise we have a little chat amongst ourselves?

Yes, there's a point at which we even bore ourselves. But if you're mothering 24/7, isolated in your corner of a big city, sites like Mumsnet can provide true solace and - incredibly - conversation NOT about babies including movies, celeb gossip and jobs. Meanwhile you'd hope your good friends would put up with your witterings in the same way you put up with their endless boyf troubles and 'search for the perfect pair of jeans' saga. Suffice to say, broadsheet bints who blather on about the latest glossy members-only bar or their obsession with 80s clothing would probably become the worst baby-bores of all, endlessly comparing this season's Bugaboo fabrics and whether to update their latest armcandy, sorry, baby with the latest eco-trend.

6 Cold tea

Ok, you maybe not actually like it, but you've probably got used to the taste of it.

A typical morning might run something like this. Make a cup of tea at 8am. Get distracted by baby wanting to be fed, have his nappy changed or crying. Get around to sipping tea at around 8.45am when it is lukewarm and a thin layer of scum has settled on the surface. At 9am, when it is stony cold and completely undrinkable, throw it away, boil the kettle and start again. Process repeats itself until day ends.

At various points you may find yourself microwaving three-quarters full cups of tea. This never works as it will either a) be so hot it will take a thin layer of skin off the top of your lip b) make the whole thing taste even more like leftover dishwater c) heat up the film of scum on top so it looks, as well as tastes, revolting.

Like a long soak in the bath, straightening your hair or wearing full make-up, having a hot cup of tea is something you may never experience again.

Fact: one tenth of global warming is caused by mothers boiling kettles for cuppas they never actually drink. Maybe.