I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship recently. Since the kids, my single and/ or childless friends have rather receded and so it seems that my life as a full-time mum is now predicated on friendships made through the children. I guess, like work, I am forming relationships with the people I spend the most time with. However, unlike work, the basis upon which we come together, though ostensibly quite low key, is in fact very intimate and passionate. Contrary to the popular image of "cake and chatting", forging relationships with other mothers is full of emotion and sometimes fraught with difficulty.

I have worked with people, who though I spent years in their company, had never visited their house, met their family or knew anything about their domestic life. However, when meeting Other Mothers, who are effectively your work colleagues, you are immediately catapulted into the centre of their lives. You meet in their homes, you discuss your lives, and you are constantly comparing notes on the most important elements of that life, namely your kids. The most you see of a person’s life at work are a few photos on a desk, but when you work as a full-time parent, you not only see their family photos, you get to examine the inside of their fridge and the state of their toilet.

In addition, everyone who is parenting has a viewpoint, and these views are right at the foreground of their everyday lives. I could work alongside, even socialise with, someone at work without really needing to know too much about his or her personal life or values. With Other Mothers, however, no sooner have we met than I am face to face with their bodies, their pain, their joy, their homes, their husbands, their lives. And even if those mothers are at pains to conceal their world, the fact remains that there is a living, breathing representative of it tearing round the living room or sobbing on their lap.

It just didn’t occur to me that I would be thrust into this intense level of social interaction, and I’m finding it really hard. As I fumble towards working out a set of core values for myself and my children, I find myself ticking or crossing boxes of the other mothers I meet. I just wouldn’t have done that at work. I could have a good time with someone without needing to find out how they voted, what religion they were or their view on global warming. But as a parent you are immediately confronted with other parents’ views which can make or break a relationship.

Parenting seems to be the most party political activity that I have ever been involved in; it’s made even more fraught by the fact it’s not until you’re sitting in someone’s front room that you find out which way your host votes. It might be around the area of discipline for instance, or eating habits, tidiness, potty training, sleeping or schooling. Suddenly that innocent cup of coffee has you plunged into a debate with someone who you vehemently disagree with or sitting silently biting your lip because it seems too difficult to discuss the issue. I long for an inane chat around the photocopier about Eastenders, or a meaningless debate about a deadline. Instead I’m faced with a discussion on whether or not to innoculate, how to deal with the death of a pet or how to feed a child who won’t eat. Still, despite all of this, I have found some wonderful people who I have forged real friendships with, and I guess that the fact that these relationships are developing despite all the tribulations that surround them, hopefully means they’ll be around for years to come.

Juliet Jones lives in domestic chaos with husband Steve, son Oliver (aged 3) and daughter Billie (aged 2) in Hertfordshire.