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I’m a half-way mum. A mum without any one defining characteristic of ’mum-ness’. I suspect im very far from alone. The problem is, among the legions of mum-bloggers, self help books, celebrity endorsements and instagram influencers we’re not very well represented.
I haven’t Gina Ford-ed my children into quiet obedience. My youngest child still sleeps on my face more than im willing to admit and I have on occasion used biscuits in place of actual discipline at the end of a very long week during neverending school holidays. Clearly im not an
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old-fashioned disciplinarian.
On the other hand prams were more convenient than baby-wearing. Bottles and formula a necessity when breast milk disappeared. And if im honest im praying that tonight is not a face sleeping night. My attachment parent credentials are shaky at best.
Ive never drank Gin from a sippy cup, done the school run an hour late in my pjs or served frozen fish fingers five nights in a row. Nor have i ever done the school run in full make up, baked organic flax seed muffins for snacktime or upcycled my own shabby chic furniture.
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Im not a sahm or a full time career mum. Im just a mum.
I love all the mums above. The ones who’ve firmly nailed their colours to a mast, doing the best for their kids in whatever way they think best. But this is me raising a glass to the just getting on with it mums. The whatever works in the moment mums. And the mums whose tribe is probably in the vast silent majority.
Besides, im not even a mum. I’m a northerner.
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MotherOfChaos - 13 Mar 19
I’m a half-way mum. A mum without any one defining characteristic of ‘mum-ness’. I suspect im very far from alone. The problem is, among the legions of mum-bloggers, self help books, celebrity endorsements and instagram influencers we’re not very well represented.
I haven’t Gina Ford-ed my children into quiet obedience. My youngest child still sleeps on my face more than im willing to admit and I have on occasion used biscuits in place of actual discipline at the end of a very long week during neverending school holidays. Clearly im not an old-fashioned disciplinarian.
On the other hand prams were more convenient than baby-wearing. Bottles and formula a necessity when breast milk disappeared. And if im honest im praying that tonight is not a face sleeping night. My attachment parent credentials are shaky at best.
Ive never drank Gin from a sippy cup, done the school run an hour late in my pjs or served frozen fish fingers five nights in a row. Nor have i ever done the school run in full make up, baked organic flax seed muffins for snacktime or upcycled my own shabby chic furniture. Im not a sahm or a full time career mum. Im just a mum.
I love all the mums above. The ones who’ve firmly nailed their colours to a mast, doing the best for their kids in whatever way they think best. But this is me raising a glass to the just getting on with it mums. The whatever works in the moment mums. And the mums whose tribe is probably in the vast silent majority.
Besides, im not even a mum. I’m a northerner.
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Mother of chaos. Calmer of tantrums. Worker of shifts. Drinker of wine.
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