I’m not a fan of selfies. I will do the odd baby and mummy selfie, but beyond that I’m not a subscriber to bombarding social media with my mug. But today something came over me. Some kind of sleep deprived frenzy overtook me as I sat, once more under the 10kg of gorgeousness that is my son, Tobias. I suddenly felt trapped. I wanted to break free. So I did. With the one limb that was able to be free, I embarked on a quest for the best selfie. One that shows my husband how good I look after nights of little sleep (what’s new?!) while he’s been away on a school camp. And I laughed. Just quietly without jolting my baby too much. He remained asleep whilst I experienced first hand the utter joy of selfies. I mean, I look incredible in this light, don’t I? It’s the “I’ve had 3 hours of broken sleep one too many nights” look. No filters necessary. You can’t manufacture this kind of art. It’s pure, 100% sleep deprived goodness.