Ever since I joined the lobby of parliamentary reporters 10 years ago, politics has been going through feverish times. In the final 36 hours before the 2015 election, I remember standing in an Asda warehouse at 2am, eight months pregnant in a hi-vis jacket, trying to keep my eyes open as I interviewed David Cameron, then the prime minister, on camera. It can’t get more intense than this, I thought. Then I joined the Guardian as political editor in March 2016 and the ground beneath my feet hasn’t stopped moving. Last year I became presenter of the Guardian’s Today in Focus podcast, but a large part of my job still involves reporting on the upheavals of Brexit. Here are a few things covering this spectacularly chaotic political era has taught me.

Passions are riding high

I recently heard a centre-right remainer MP casually describe a staunch Brexiter as a racist. An aide sniped back: “And you’re the worst politician in the country!” Soon after, I was standing in a television green room, a mini sandwich in one hand, when the row erupted again. The aide stormed in, spoiling for a fight, almost squaring up to the MP. For a minute I was back at university in the middle of a nightclub standoff. It ended with an apology, but it was an altercation that wouldn’t have happened a year ago. So much about the mood of politics has changed. Look at Labour peer Andrew Adonis, transformed from measured technocrat into tub-thumping remain zealot. Look at the new wave of activists. I met a 64-year-old woman outside parliament wrapped in an EU flag; she said she had never protested before. Nearby, another woman of a similar age told me she would riot if Brexit did not happen. The abuse directed at MPs is not new, but it is worse than ever. I spent a day with former Tory Anna Soubry, and by 11am she had received two death threats. Committed Brexiters have faced similar.

Brexit has created new tribes (including Guardian-reading Tories)

When I joined the Guardian, a typical response from Conservatives was an eye roll and a smirk. Ashley Fox, the MEP who leads them in Brussels, proudly told me he had a mug on his desk that read: “The Guardian, wrong about everything, all the time.” Now I bet Fox, who is a Brexiter, is still no fan, but a lot of his colleagues feel differently, as they assert their liberal values. Someone recently sidled up and almost whispered in my ear, “I’m Conservative and it’s the Guardian I love now.”

It’s a professional hazard to warm to all sorts

I suffer from a problem that is not helpful when you’re supposed to be a cynical reporter. Whether die-hard remainers or uber Brexiters, I can’t help but like a lot of my interviewees. A friend recently said I was getting along too well with Jacob Rees-Mogg – not a man beloved by Guardian readers. But he’s just so polite, I said. I have to remind myself he is a father of six who has never changed a nappy. Plus all the other stuff.

I don’t think it’s entirely Theresa May’s fault

Hands up if you feel sorry for the prime minister? What, not even when she’s hunched over the dispatch box, voice cracking? Don’t get me wrong: a lot of the Brexit chaos is down to her mistakes – but not all of it. The EU has been tough, too. She’s been criticised for triggering article 50 too early – but it was the EU’s “no negotiation without notification” demand that made this necessary. Ditto paying a £39bn Brexit bill before trade talks can even start. OK, May didn’t listen to warnings, so many would argue she’s still to blame. But remember the context and mood in which these decisions were taken.

I don’t think Alan Partridge is having a go at me. But it’s possible

Most of my days are spent haring around Westminster, trying to follow fast-moving events. But I also co-present Robert Peston’s ITV show, standing at a screen and trying to make the numbers in parliament work for any form of Brexit. (Our analysis has always shown the only way is for the two main parties to cooperate.) Here’s hoping This Time With Alan Partridge, which features hapless sidekick Simon Denton with his temperamental screen, was inspired by someone else.

It’s best not to overpromise about bedtime

After the June 2016 referendum, I was in a job-share with the brilliant Heather Stewart, and we would constantly pass the baton. I was at my son’s nursery sports day when Michael Gove betrayed Boris Johnson, forcing him to pull out of the Tory leadership campaign. I cheered the egg and spoon race while sneaking a peek at Twitter. I’ve now got three boys and still grapple to find the balance. In these unpredictable times, I can try to be back to tuck them in. But I can’t guarantee it.