Unmissable, hilarious and kind, this is the first novel from Kathryn Wallace, who blogs as I Know, I Need to Stop Talking.

SAM! AVA! Get downstairs, NOW. Have you done your TEETH? HAIR? SHOES? Come on, come on, come on, we're going to be bastarding late again. No, I haven't seen Lego Optimus Prime, and nor do I give a shit about his whereabouts. Sam, will you stop winding your sister up and take this model of the Shard that I painstakingly sat up and created for you last night so that I wouldn't be in trouble with your teacher. I mean, so that you wouldn't be in trouble with your teacher. No, it doesn't smell of 'dirty wine'. Well, maybe it does a little bit. Look, Sam, I haven't got time to argue. Just hold your nose and get in the car, okay? AVA! TEETH! HAIR! SHOES!

Gemma is only just holding it together - she's a single parent, she's turning 40 and her seven-year-old daughter has drawn a cruelly accurate picture which locates Gemma's boobs somewhere around her knees. So when her new next-door neighbour, Becky, suggests that Gemma should start dating again, it takes a lot of self-control not to laugh in her face.

But Becky is very persuasive and before long Gemma finds herself juggling a full-time job, the increasingly insane demands of the school mums' Facebook group and the tricky etiquette of a new dating world. Not only that, but Gemma has to manage her attraction to her daughter's teacher, Tom, who has swapped his life in the City for teaching 30 six- to seven-year-olds spelling, grammar, basic fractions - and why it's not OK to call your classmate a stinky poo-bum....

It's going to be a long year - and one in which Gemma and Becky will learn a really crucial lesson: that in the end, being a good parent is just about being good enough.