I love my kids. I love reading to them, playing with them, watching them grow up, listening to them talk, teaching them to ride bikes, taking them to the beach, and generally hanging out with them.

Mind you, I hate picking up after them, listening to them squabble, and being spoken to in that dismissive way that only teenagers can really do justice to. But I can’t seem to have the good bits without the picking up, the squabbles and the sharp end of a teenager’s tongue from time to time. I wouldn’t be without them though (most days).

I love pizza too. I love crispy pizzas and I like the soft squishy ones. Any pizza really. I love pepperoni and mozzarella and tomatoes and juicy chunks of ham and piquant capers and crispy onions. Mind you, I hate olives, and they sometimes appear on pizzas without being ordered. Disgraceful. And those dried up tomatoes you sometimes get. The ones that are all chewy. Ugh! I always pick those off and throw them away.

When my kids were little they’d refuse to eat a pizza that had something they didn’t like on it. They’d burst into tears and sob, ‘I hate mushrooms!’ or ‘I can’t stand cooked tomatoes!’ They had to learn that if they couldn’t work round the mushrooms or cooked tomatoes, they couldn’t have pizza at all.

You know what I’m going to say. Yes, life is a pizza, with everything on it. If you want the good bits you have to deal with the bad bits. If you love everything about your job apart from the one person you don’t like dealing with, recognize that the job comes as a package and you buy into it or jack the job. If you love your partner but hate the way they sulk after a row, accept them as they are and recognize that the sulking is the bit that reminds you of how wonderful everything else is. If your neighbour is friendly and keeps an eye on your property when you’re out and signs for your deliveries and babysits the kids, you just have to live with the fact that she talks too much and stop moaning about it. And when you stop moaning, you’ll probably find you mind it much less.

I know parents who move their child from school to school until they find one that’s perfect in every way. They never do of course, but eventually they have to stop because the child has grown up. I’m not saying you should never move your child (if you have the option) but stop looking for perfection because you won’t find it. Life isn’t perfect. Nothing in life is perfect.

The best things in life come with chewy dried tomatoes and olives. There’s no point moaning. Just pick them off, or swallow them down as fast as you can, and then sink your teeth into what’s left and relish every bite.