There's something I need to get off my chest aside from breast-milk. It involves motherhood and the changing nature of friendship.

Let me get this straight from the outset. I am big on friends. Over the years I have accumulated many; some dating back to primary school, some from high school, some from university, some from work, some from share housing and some I found at the pub. Oh, and one guy I picked up on a dating site (slightly embarrassing). I even have one MySpace friend (Hi, Matty!).

OK, so I'm a bit rusty these days at attracting buddies, but how many do you need anyway? The point is that friendship is important to me.

When I was single I had mostly single friends; unattached and unencumbered by partners, children, pets and agendas. Life was easy. You'd see one or all of them every day of the week and at all hours of the day and night.

These days a few of my friends remain unattached (ie. child-free and single). But for most of us, with adulthood comes relationships and complications.

What the hell happens to people when they become parents? Actually, no I'll re-phrase that - what the hell happens to women?

From the outset, it looks promising. You start getting phone calls from people you haven't heard from in years. "Hi, remember me? I've just had a kid and I know you have several hundred, shall we meet up down at the park? I can't wait to see you!" Yeah! Great!

It's only after about the third playdate (now held at your place where the coffee is free, the cookies are freshly baked, the toys are better and it doesn't matter if poppett makes a mess because they won't have to clean it up) that you realise that your long-lost 'friend' is no friend at all.

In fact, they have a less-than-friendly agenda. They've called you not out of friendship, but desperation. They have a terrible affliction which strikes fear in the heart of all mothers. It's called having nothing better to do (NBTD).

NBTD is a curse which strikes on rainy days, sick days and days on which SBTD was cancelled. In the early days it occurs in the hours between poppett's morning sleep and lunch, but as time marches on and those daytime naps become fewer, it can be extended to the period just before hubby gets home from work.

Once you were the perfect friend. Now you find you're the perfect antidote to the scourge of NBTD.

One such 'friend' texts me each week to line up a morning play date. I duly agree because it seems rude to keep pretending

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