Of all the awkward emotional dilemmas every Mum has to deal with every day, there is one that, with our preoccupation around guilt in every other area of life, simply doesn’t get the air-time that it should: what to do with the art produced by our oh so talented progeny.

When they’re young and cute, we can get away with pinning finger paintings to the fridge, but what about when schoolbags full of paper come home from school? Or, gulp, the clay? Oh the clay…

My little darling is now 14 and taller than me, so I guess not so little…and a teenager, but still a darling. The thing is, she doesn’t bring a lot home these days, and when she does, we have a deal whereby new works go up in my office and then are re-cycled- after being photographed.

Which is the point I was trying clumsily to segue to- rather than hang onto suitcases worth of paper and canvas, we got in the habit of photographing our favourite art works at the end of each term. She was then fine about the originals finding their way into the recycling.

Sure there were some exceptions that I will hang onto forever, but this worked for us. Art is, after all, in the eye of the beholder.

The pics? Some of her early primary school art.