Your little bundle of joy is on the way. The nursery is decorated, tastefully, after you’d cruised half of Pinterest looking for cot inspiration. The wardrobe is full of an artfully quirky ensemble of outfits. Everything is ready. But wallpaper can be changed, clothes are grown out of – there’s one decision that sticks a little longer. What’s your little darling going to be called?

How can this be, I hear you ask. Aren’t we supposed to show our kids that we believe in them?

Isn’t telling them that they are little Mozarts or Einsteins or Serenas meant to build up their confidence, meant to reinforce the idea they can be whoever they want to be? What the heck are we meant to say to them now?

The pressure is always on for parents to turn every waking moment of their children’s lives into an educational experience.

But what of the international festival of kicking a ball around a field? What can your kids possibly learn from that? Well, quite a lot, as it turns out. And we’re not talking about getting your kids to look up the participating countries in an atlas – that’s for amateurs. What we’ve been looking at is lessons that will drive you on through life.

Do you really have to invite every kid in your child’s class to the birthday party?

So, you think kids birthday parties are all jelly and ice cream, ball pools and cake-flavoured vomit? Think again, my naïve friend! Welcome to the wonderful and frightening world of birthday party politics.

Venues need a bit of careful consideration. You might debate whether the party needs a theme or whether fancy dress is going to be a bit too much effort. Budgeting for the party bags can be a bit of a hassle. But the big decision, the make-or-break question, is how many kids you invite.

Can the order you and your siblings (if you have any) were born really dictate your personality and your future?

We know how the story goes. First born gets all the attention, does the best at school and then goes on to rule the world, jealously hogging as much attention to themselves as they can.

The youngest sits back and relaxes, gets away with everything and rebels against authority.

The middle child goes about their business ignored by everyone else in the family, learning to compromise and concentrating on relationships outside the family.

Big data is everywhere! Facebook is selling the passcodes to our innermost fears and dreams to the highest bidder. Our smart phones are listening to our conversations and marketing them back to us. Every step we take in the digital world is being sifted, analysed and stored for some unimaginable future reference.

And that’s just the consenting adults. What about the pitter patter of tiny digital footprints?

So, you’re blogging away to your heart’s content about your adorable little cutie-pies, posting artfully arranged pictures of them in the snow or describing their latest supermarket meltdown in excruciating detail, when you’re struck by a troubling thought: is anybody actually reading this? And if they aren’t reading me, who are they reading? Who are the big fish in the even bigger pond that is the world of parenting blogs?

Half-term coming up? Daughters (and sons) to keep busy? Feeling the pressure to keep them edu-tained? Wishing you could encourage more girls to get involved in sciences and redress the gender bias in the field? Aware that it’s International Day of Women and Girls in Science?

Well, do I have the post for you? (Yes; yes, I do.)

With the news currently saturated with stories about the various imbalances between men and women in public and private life, attention turns to the world of science and engineering on the 11th February for International Day of Women and Girls in Science.

If Cupid’s darts are all flying in the right direction come the 14th, then surely the pitter patter of tiny feet should be like a monsoon come mid-November, right?

All the ingredients are there – special time with your chosen lovemate, a touch of booze, maybe a barrel or two of oysters – for the soufflés to rise in the oven. Even if you already have kids, this is the one night you make an effort to spend some quality time together, and that is not easily done.

We’ve all read them (and we've included a few from twitter below). The Facebook statuses that make your teeth twitch. The Instagram photos carefully posed to bring your pituitary gland out in a rash.

The delicately phrased post about how the problem with having such cute kids is that people are always stopping them in the street to compliment them and it takes ages to get all the gorgeous clothes and other trinkets from the shops – with pictures of their beautiful little supermodels wearing half a local boutique.