I’m 37 weeks pregnant and never is there a time in your life when food could be more important. I was in Boots the other day and I got chatting to a very helpful member of staff. It took her no time at all to convince me that the whole intellectual stability of my unborn child was locked within a month’s supply of Omega 3. Apparently, the unborn do better at school if subjected to this magical tablet. I probably owe my other two boys an apology, as it was news to me.

Mind you, perhaps I’m a little late to the party with 3 weeks to go.

It’s a wonderful time being at this stage of my pregnancy. Besides the sleepless nights, endless kicking and back aches there are some advantages.

Anytime there’s a snip of chocolate going in the office my very kind and thoughtful colleagues are giving me first dibs. They are so considerate they are even producing chocolate on the basis of how tired I look. Thanks Eleanor for the Buttons yesterday. . . really got me and the bump over the hump.

Overall, pregnancy is also a time where you try and make better food choices. Even though what’s on the tip of my tongue is salad, fruit and quinoa, it inevitably ends up being verbalised as chocolate, chips and Haribo jellies. But hats off to the pregnant state; it does instinctively tell you what to stay clear of. I can’t stomach coffee. One glass of white wine is my cut off point. So my intelligent body, I owe you thanks for that one.

I don’t have any wonderful recipes to share. If I manage to get a protein, a carb and some veg (or something green – even if it is a Haribo) on a plate at the end of the day, it’s high fives all around.

I’m going to read my two sons all of this month’s food content in the hope that they command a bit of respect for food. Currently about half of it ends up on the floor.