I hate getting up in the morning, but it’s also my best part of the day because Parys climbs into bed with me and we have our morning cuddles. It’s a very precious time because it’s just us on our own, before one of my two PAs comes in. At weekends we lie there and chat about what we’re going to do. I love our conversations; he’s still exploring the world in such a different way to a grown-up — all expectations and innocence.

I’ve got a huge shower, so Parys and I shower together. We fight over who’s going to stand under the hot water, but now he’s taller than me he always wins.

Whichever PA is on gets Parys into his school uniform while I dry myself. Then I lay out my make-up and a mirror on the floor and put my face on with my left foot. For breakfast I just throw down whatever I’ve got time for — normally cereal. And I take my tablets. I suffer from chronic pain caused by arthritis in my back, for which I take three different pills in the morning and two at night.

We leave around 8.40. I love driving and playing loud music in the car — I’m a 1980s saddo. I’ve never got bored with the sensation I had the day I passed my driving test. It was like being given wings. I get a sense of freedom in the car — no one knows I’m disabled, so people don’t treat me differently. The only bad thing is when someone lets me pass and I don’t wave back — they must think I’m being miserable! I steer with my shoulder, using hydraulic power-assisted steering. The pedals are at knee height, where my foot is, and I operate them with my left foot. The indicators and lights are controlled by two electronic black boxes that I operate with my right foot.

I stay with Parys for 10 minutes when I drop him off at school, to settle him. He is quite casual now. He says: "Mummy, you can go. I’m fine." But not before he’s quizzed me over what’s in his lunchbox.

Before going to the studio I head somewhere for an hour to get inspiration, either around Brighton or in the countryside. Mouth-and-foot painting is my bread and butter. I paint Christmas cards, so inspiration can be quite hard in midsummer. But I’ll just be driving and see something and think: "Wow!" Then I’ll throw my PA the camera to take the photograph for me. I can be a bit bossy. I’ll say: "No, no, come down to my height." By the time they’ve finished with me they’ll be pretty good photographers.

I also take photos with me as the subject matter. I collaborate with another photographer who takes the pictures, but the beauty of digital technology is it allows me to step behind the camera to assess the image myself. I’m a gadget queen — I love streamlined technology.

For lunch we go to a nice pub that does good sandwiches and fruit. I’m a vegetarian and I like food that comes in small amounts, with varying tastes. The afternoon I might spend painting. When

I was modelling for the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, I had to sit for Marc [Quinn] for hours, which, when you’re pregnant, is uncomfortable. But he was very kind to me. I had some input at the start. I’d advise him on where he needed to wrap the plaster around me so it would all match up. It’s Marc’s baby, but I wasn’t just the stuffed dummy.

I think it’s brilliant. Where else in the world can you see a 16ft sculpture of a naked, disabled, pregnant woman? The fact that a major work by a well-known English artist is concerned with disability is a turnaround — though Parys is most upset that he’s in my tummy and you can’t see his face. I’m not a champion of the disabled world, but it’s a joy when people come over after seeing me on TV and say it really made them think.

I try and leave the studio no later than five. If Parys doesn’t want to go home after school we might have a cup of tea somewhere, or we’ll go straight back so he can swim in the paddling pool. I don’t cook — my PAs do that. And we often get takeaways. I introduced Parys to different foods from the beginning, so he wouldn’t be too fussy. Now he’ll eat all sorts: Chinese, Indian, French, Italian.

At seven it’s wind-down time. Parys sits on my lap and we look at a book. Then he goes off to get his PJs on to show Mummy he can do it himself. One of the PAs normally helps him brush his teeth. He has an electric toothbrush and if I help him I have to have the wrong end in my mouth, which is horrible. He has a bed with a slide that he hangs out of to give me cuddles and a kiss goodnight.

I’m dyslexic so I’m not a big reader. If I’m not too tired I watch TV. Other nights I organise my photo albums. Whichever PA is with me cuts the bits out and sticks them where I want. It can take an hour to do a page, but by recording your life in a positive, decorative way you get a sense of that time and what it means to you.

I try and get into bed before 12, but my arthritis can make it a struggle to get to sleep, or to sleep at all. As a result, I do have bad days, but when I’m having a good day I’ll cram in an awful lot to make up for it. I’ve stopped feeling guilty about not doing things. Chronic pain exhausts you. It’s about letting my body recover so that I can have my full days.

I’m not sure what drives me. I think it was about having a life I wasn’t meant to have — because disabled people don’t have lives, we just exist. But I love life, and being involved and having a son. Even with pain, life is good.