The milk has run out…

It’s 5pm and I’ve just found my three year old spark out on the playroom floor (ok, in front of Peppa Pig)…

It’s 5am, I have a busy day of work ahead and my one year old has just woken requesting Peppa Pig…

It’s PE day and my son’s kit is currently swirling around the washing machine at 60 degrees…

I’ve emptied the dishwasher more times than the clean up crew in the Great British Bake Off….

I’m stark naked in the shower, I’ve just heard the bin lorry and I haven’t put the bin out…

Being a parent is full of these moments and lately I’ve been wondering how everyone else makes it look so easy. I rarely ever see anyone else driving 50 yards in the Waitrose car park and then creeping to an ever-so-gentle stop to retrieve the ‘free coffee’ from the roof that they’ve just spent £20 on groceries justifying.

No one else’s toddler throws themselves on the ground at a simple request (‘Do you want to put the chopped tomatoes in the basket?’ ‘Stop licking the freezer windows, please.’ ‘Don’t chase your sister up the wine aisle yelling ‘ALL FOR MUMMY!’ It gives the *wrong impression’)

I don’t hear anyone else’s children saying loudly ‘Is that a man or a lady?’

I never notice other people’s children calling their mum by their first name.

I’ve never even encountered a mum going to a pet shop to buy a ‘real lead’ for a toy dog.

In fact, everyone else does a very good job arriving on time, appearing civilised, accompanied by children wearing shoes on the correct feet, with hair that does not resemble Rab C Nesbitt and their children do not walk into anyone else’s house and immediately request a snack. Or receive the snack, criticise it, and spit it into the hand of an unsuspecting grown up.

Or do they?

I have a theory. Almost a year into my beloved blog, I have had the fortune and pleasure to chat to many amazing folk about life with children. I feel confident there are small armies of us, growing all over the globe. I think it’s becoming ok to admit ‘I can’t’ and even braver ‘I sometimes don’t want to’ about certain aspects of motherhood.

In the past (as my Mum frequently reminds me) mums would gather at playgroup sessions, coffee mornings and group activities to share these things. Supported in small hushed groups, mums would help each other out with daily crises, reassuring each other that they were doing a good job, laugh until they cried (or wee’d a bit) about the hilarity and hysteria of parenting small people. 30 years later my mum still has those meetings with the same ladies (hopefully less so about my toilet habits nowadays).

But now, aren’t we lucky? We have the whole world at our fingertips (granted, some people do use this power for evil instead of good…but I’m pretty sure even back in ye old 1980’s there was a version of trolling!) it never fails to surprise me about how kind complete strangers can be. And what a wealth of information can support us aimlessly sailing mums amidst a sea of nappies, weaning, feeding and (not) sleeping. Even at 3am, if one of my children is throwing up colourful stuff, I can actually try and find out what’s what!

So the next time I think to myself – is it just me? I will remind myself: no, it’s not. Now stop whinging you moany cow and put the kettle on. 

*possibly what Mummy would wish for, but still factually inaccurate.