Don't get me wrong, a toy is a great tool for teaching kids. But I bet you my baby boy's first tooth that the new PC toys that are hitting the market right now will, like all the toys before them, change nothing unless we change the stories we, the adults, tell about diversity.
It's in the ordinary where we now find so much joy. Being together as a family, watching a film together, seeing Rog teach Sam how to play chess, and Flo grab an armful of books and snuggle up in bed next to her dad.
In recent times, an already tough job has got that much harder. The recession coupled with drastic cuts to public spending has left many single parents worse off, fighting just to keep their heads above water.
I know I am lucky that my husband has a job where this is financially viable for us to do. I know I am luckier still that I am out in Dubai as a stay at home mum, where it is the "normal" to stay at home so both myself, and the toddler, have a great social network.
As an atheist parent can I let off a sigh of relief? Not really because if you want your children to immerse themselves in the virtues of humanist liberalism will I not be also criticised for indoctrinating them?
In 2015, the environment available to majority of women is counterproductive for birth and not based on what we know is best for mums. It is this that I think we as a society, should be pursing as an essential change to offset the very real risk of losing the beauty of childbirth. Why is this so?
Because these are our children, and the problems they are exhibiting are ones we are giving them (and by we, I mean all of us living in the developed world - these problems cross countries and continents).
We have brought up five kids, my children's father and I. I had my first child whilst I was still at school, and the others came in rapid succession when I was at University. Of course, we didn't have maids.
You know what? I was proud. I was proud to show off a bump that was mine, that had grown one baby and was trying to keep another safely tucked up. After every discharge I felt relief that my body was doing the right thing and keeping my boy in until he was ready. It felt miraculous in a way.
Personally I think this parenting gig is a whole lot tougher if you don't have Mummy Friends. Whatever life stage you are at you tend to feel better when you have people you can turn to who get where you are coming from because they are in the same situation as you.
As a parent of a young child myself, I have to remind myself not to panic. If my conversations over the past 18 years with Place2Be's team of counsellors and therapists have taught me one thing, it's that it's never too early or too late to start thinking about your child's mental health.
All families with disabled children have huge mountains to climb and we face continuous barriers and endless challenges to clear a path for our disabled child to belong in society, to belong in our communities and to be valued so they can live a full life: enjoy friendships, a social life, a job, go to college, have their dreams and aspirations supported.
My first gig when I was over the advised 12 weeks safe period in which to tell people (although be warned if you have an elderly mother like me - she had me at 43 - then they just write it in every Christmas card they send at three weeks anyway) I didn't mention it on stage and it just felt wrong.
Adoption is a good thing, it gives children a second chance of experiencing enduring family relationships when birth parents cannot care for them and no other reasonable options are available in the wider family.
As I sit typing amongst an army of plastic fantastic (the majority of which I might add I have actually paid good money for) I realise the extent to which our stylish pad has become a giant toy box of garish monstrosity.
I hope that this information going public has made someone's life that little bit easier now. Someone who does struggle to buy medicine for their children as there will be people out there who do need this help.
As they grow, there are good runs and bad runs. Over winter it doesn't end, this relay of broken nights. They begin with sickness and end with sickness, the washing machine spins constantly, the soundtrack to dark.
Although I work from home I regularly travel and meet people in London and elsewhere. But despite meticulous planning and a lot of (expensive) childcare it doesn't always go smoothly. Here are just 10 things that nearly stopped me from getting to work today: