HELLO everyone. My name is Angela and I am a pushy parent. Oh, sorry. Thought for a moment I was at a meeting of PPA (that's Pushy Parents Anonymous). You know, the under-the-radar self-help group for mums and dads who have the temerity to try and direct their children so that they achieve their maximum potential.

You see in today's oh-so politically correct climate, you're one short hop from pariah if you openly drive your children towards success.

Personally, I've been a PP for years. If I don't tell my teenage son to get off his backside and understand that without decent qualifications he's got little chance of a lucrative, stimulating and challenging career - then who will?

I know all the noble cliches about wanting children to be happy, but happiness doesn't pay the mortgage. And sorry, but without money in this life, well frankly you don't have choice. And having choice, means having freedom.

Ah, but to be a pushy parent is to wear a label that daren't speak its name. Indeed the very term stinks of rank disgust. Coined by a liberal elite who think education should be one-size-fits-all rather than a meritocratic pyramid, it makes mothers and fathers who want to better their children and propel them on their way feel like they are committing the ultimate social gaffe.

But I'm sick and tired of apologising for encouraging my children to do their best, aim high, beat the competition. It's a hard, cruel world out there which many youngsters can't possibly appreciate.

Unrepentant

And if you're cringing at my candid, unrepentant stance then don't listen to me, but at least bear in mind a new report which reveals that having pushy parents is four times more important than financial background in terms of a child's success in later life.

Unsurprisingly, it finds children whose parents take an active interest in their education are more likely to go on to higher education and a good job, regardless of whether they come from a rich home.

Such refreshing research undermines all those who bleat about high-status jobs being a closed shop for the educationally elite. Having a parent who cares and gives direction is far more valuable. How can an impressionable, directionless child know about satisfying careers in medicine, law, the arts as well as a range of more practical, less academic subjects, unless there is a parent on hand enlightening and encouraging them every step of the way?

And if it means the ignoble prospect of fighting the competition, teach them that too. Yet society continues to shrink from this idea. Indeed, Dame Kelly Holmes launched a stinging attack this week on the decline of competitive sport in schools.

Potential comes in all shapes and sizes. But one thing is for sure. Whether you have the good fortune to afford a decent school or whether you're just a decent parent who wants your child to have good fortune, motivation starts at home.

And as parents we shouldn't be made to feel ashamed for trying to get the best for our children. You really don't have to be posh to push.

Tell us the truth Jack, you just needed a . . .

SO Jade Goody's widower, Jack Tweed, had a drunken one-night stand with a model months after the Big Brother star lost her battle with cervical cancer.

Should we be outraged? Should we castigate the hapless, directionless young widower for his behaviour?

For the act itself, I think not. Tweed is typical of his type. All men are fundamentally weak - throw in the intoxicating mix of a skinful of vodka and a willing blonde and you're hardly going to expect him to spend the night discussing the economy.

And if sex helps him cope with his grief, then why not?

What I object to in Tweed's case is the hand-wringing that went with being caught with his pants down. "I regretted it so much," he moaned. "I felt dirty and sick. No offence to her, but it's the circumstances. I shouldn't have done it."

Maybe not, but guilt is a fatuous emotion. If we really feel guilty we wouldn't do half the things we do. How much better it would have been for Tweed to hold up his hands , say "yes, I gave in, I couldn't resist, it made me feel better." Or to put it more succinctly, "I needed a..." well, you know what I mean.

With that kind of admission, how could anyone blame him?