I can still see the tear-stained face and hear the frantic howls as my 2yr-old son struggled in the arms of my helper and my MIL, straining for me to hold him and not leave. This morning was particularly bad. Also because he looked extra cute and endearing in his giraffe PJs. He does not listen as I pacify: "Just for a while, baby. Mummy will be home in the evening okay?"

It never gets easier and always, always tears at the very core of me. I'm sure every working mom feels like this. Although I am already working 2.5days a week, when I do leave for the office, the howls never fail to get to me.

And with those come the self-recriminating thoughts: bad mummy! negligent mummy! Oh the guilt... and the fervent wishes that I didn't have to leave.

And yet, conflictingly, when I am at home and busy with emails, research, and he comes padding up the stairs and calling: "Please mummy, I want nen-nen!" I cringe and flinch and say: "There's no more nen-nen" or "It hurts mummy to give you nen-nen now!"

Then I think: Ok, true that the nipples are still sore thanks to pregnancy and Ok, true that there is no more milk, but aren't I a bad mommy for denying this baby his comfort? Why aren't I practising what I preach about the wonders of child-led weaning? Why aren't I excited about extended breastfeeding and tandem nursing? Bad mummy! negligent mummy! Selfish mummy!

Then I usually sigh and say, "OK, ok come up here and nurse but just for a while!"

Then he's happy again. And as I latch him on, I mutter: needles, needles, take deep breath. OUCH!

There's no latching him off of course, the guy inevitably falls asleep at the breast. And then I guess it doesn't matter anymore whether I am a bad mummy or not.