Sometimes Yummy, Mainly Slummy

In the Court of Mothers, I just want to say a few words as the defense counsel for the type of Mummy I am (ha you can tell I've been watching The Good Wife).

There's sooooo much stuff around these days which tells you how to nurture your kids - don't get me started on the Ginas, the Supernannys, the Dog Whisperers (I know that's for dogs but often gets positive results from my children). How can one mother possible ensure her three children get their 5-a-day, half hour of exercise, water to aid concentration, clean fingernails and enough sleep to ensure maximum performance???? As well as cleaning house, cooking meals, loading & unloading washing machine, loading & unloading tumble dryer, packed lunches, organising school uniform, watching Jeremy Kyle, helping with homework, taking an interest in their day, texting, washing up, avoiding special love, buying milk etc etc. Oh if only Mr Dyson would invent a Mummy domestic appliance. I would LOVE to hear from Mummys who do all the above and still have time (and the desire) for adult conversation.

As my friend put it the other day "If the job for Mummy was advertised, I would never have applied". I might have applied but I would never have got through the interview. And even if I'd got the job, my colleagues would all be doing a damn sight better than me.

Don't take me too seriously, my children do make me happy but it's when I am on my own, with sole charge of the remote and feeling, well, like ME that I am the happiest. Yes I can be selfish - if I wasn't I don't think I could ever get ME back again, but I do love my children.

I tried it once - being a Great Mum. It was a couple of months after I had The Toddler. I did loads of home cooking, even changed the bedding regularly, played games and never raised my voice. I was actually pretty fun to be around (not as fun as The Husband though, who always manages to bounce in at 7pm declaring a game of Rocket Ships, no matter that I've spent the past hour trying to calm down the kids). However nobody noticed or even cared and The Husband thought I was having a breakdown.

In my closing argument, I quote the wise words of Outnumbered (GENIUS television show). My efforts and intentions are down to "Well meaning parental incompetence while attempting to raise kids with the minimum of emotional damage to all concerned."