My Fabulous Life: How to be a working mother, and win

As The Independent's newest columnist, I would like to welcome everybody to this, my first column, which I hope you'll all find an enriching experience as well as an enjoyable one. Over the coming weeks, I hope to keep you up to date with all the latest news on home, style, beauty, parenting and diet, plus tips on how to make your home smell lovely. Personally, I'm a Floris fanatic. I love pretending I'm deep in the south of France by using their Lavender Linen spray. In fact, if you buy one thing this week, make it a little bottle of lavender oil (the best and purest you can afford) and add just a few drops to your bath for a restorative, fragrant soak. Alternatively, use it to revive pot pourri, which, I always think, desperately needs re-fragrancing at this time of year.

Now, before we get too diverted by delicious scents – have you, by the way, ever tried running honey and lemon through your dishwasher? – on to a book recommendation. My dear friend Carol Smillie (who was initially introduced to me by our mutual friends Trinny and Susannah, whose tireless charity work includes helping common people with no taste to look acceptable) has just published Carol Smillie's Working Mum's Handbook (Virgin, £11.99). The dust jacket says it was written "with Eileen Fursland", but I think I can safely say it is entirely Carol's own work none the less. Indeed, Carol's own searingly honest, emotionally true voice – her essence, if you like – comes though unmistakably at every turn.

Certainly, it's a book for all mums, dealing not only with the practical problems and emotional issues that face all of us when we go back to our broadcasting careers, but also with how to combine a whole new season of make-over challenges with a happy family life. "When I get back from a trip away," Eileen writes, in Carol's searingly honest, emotionally true voice, "I head straight for the children and I know my husband thinks: 'Hello, I'm here too.'"

Typical Carol, to make such an acute observation. It's exactly what happens at my house whenever I return from a trip – except for a few minor details, such as my lovely children, Roman and Keithleen, bursting into tears, hanging on to the day nanny's leg and screaming, "Go away, scary lady!" (how children love to punish their mothers for their absences) while Keith, my husband, says: "Right, then, I'm off." Sweet Keith, who often spends his evenings with his ex-wife, Bella, who does not have Charles Worthington's home number and has rather let herself go... I think it's incredibly nice of Keith to go over and keep sad Bella company while she's waiting for the Sun-In to take.

However, I thought I'd better reassure my own loyal readers that my best-selling books are indeed wholly my own, even though my invaluable researcher and assistant, Bettina, sometimes has a go and I may not actually get round to reading the manuscript prior to publication. (Hey, I'm a busy working mum!)

This invaluable time-saving technique is, I believe, also much favoured by Naomi Campbell, the busy working supermodel, although I cannot speak for Sophie Dahl, also a busy working supermodel, whose famous grandfather invented the lentil curry. (A recipe for this is given in Denisella's Busy Working Mum's Bean Bible, Thorsons, £12.99.) I haven't, I must confess, read Sophie's novel yet, but as it comes from such a highly creative and innovative line, I'm sure it has many, many good things in it.

Looking after Rose and Mateus is thirsty work

Rose and Mateus, our beloved Westies, had their first birthday last week, and Keithleen desperately wished to celebrate with the full works: presents, a birthday tea, party bags, paper hats. "Please, scary lady, please," she begged, looking up at me with that shiny little face and the Burberry eyepatch I asked the housekeeper to run up for her. Of course, I can never resist a party, so immediately dispatched Bettina to Notting Hill on the gift trail. She returned with two adorable acetate dog bowls with little bones suspended in the rim, plus two blowsy floral Cath Kidston dog baskets. Cath Kidston would not have been my choice – I do believe that when a certain look arrives on bathcaps, it's almost certainly over – but Keith said I could not send Bettina back. "Look at the poor girl," he said. "She was typing your latest bestseller at 5am this morning. She's completely worn out." I agreed that she looked a little peaky, and must remember to suggest she puts a little bit aside each week for some Platymousse Super-Rejuvenating Anti-Fatigue Night Serum (£142, but high in anti-oxidants).

In the end, the party was held in our nearest park, which is the park nearest to us. There was a Bonio cake, hunt-the-squeaky-toy and packets of rawhide treats for going-home presents. It was a super afternoon, or so said Day Nanny. I could not attend because of yoga and crystal-therapy commitments. Still, Day Nanny made a lovely video that I can watch at my convenience, possibly after the one of Keithleen in her nativity play, which, can you believe, I haven't had time to watch yet. Talk about busy working mum...

Please help the poor - donate soft furnishings

Also, in this column, I hope to keep you posted about my charity, which distributes soft furnishings to poor people who have none whatsoever through no fault of their own. If you have some tired old cushions you would like to donate, please contact me and I will try to get back to you, even though my schedule is unremitting: a new season of my award-winning QVC show, The Denisella Hour, starts soon. Joanna Lumley and Martine McCutcheon are already on board, as is Jade Goody, who isn't really our sort of person – but, as I said to her, all help is welcome, even though we can't get everybody on the letterhead. See you next week!