I’ve Never: suffered from mum guilt

I am utterly and entirely untouched by ‘mum guilt’.

I’ve never used the phrase and I’ve never experienced it.

I have felt sad at nursery drop off. I’ve mooned over pictures of my children whilst I was at work. I’ve paused to consider whether three hours on an iPad is the best childhood experience I could offer.

But that’s reflection- a momentary wonder. A healthy and normal check of the parenting pulse.

At any given moment, I am probably giving my 70% best. That ebbs and flows. That’s wholly acceptable and, more importantly, sustainable.

Mum-guilt is a bullshit patriarchal load of codswallop. Another phrase invented to make women eat themselves.

Throw it- and any other ‘mum’ prefixed phrase- out with the next pooh-smeared nappy and coast along in the knowledge that it’s ok to like yourself and the parent you are.

Me and ‘mum guilt’

My Beauty Rituals

Nighttime is me time and I always enjoy the sensuous journey between my working day and rest.

Firstly, I slip out of my work clothes and send them all to the dry cleaners

I then plan my outfits for the next day and arrange them in the perfect flatlay. Come follow my OOTD on insta @threedayoldtights

Next, I soak off the day’s toxins with an ox milk organic balm

I use an upward circular motion to mindfully apply my celebrity endorsed facial mask

To keep cellulite at bay, I use a bespoke cream on the rest of my body.

I pop on my linen-fresh pyjamas…

…and slip between the sheets.

Crew in the Gloom: to the tune of Room on the Broom

The mum has a tot

And long lanky hair

That she wears in a knot

Over the carpets and floors she vacuums

The toddler is crying and churning out poohs

‘Damn!’ Cries the mum and the throws down the Hoover

She grabs wipes and nappies in one quick manoeuvre

Then out of the nappy with thundering force

Comes an almighty wee- like a race horse

‘I am a toddler as stubborn as can be   Do you have the patience to deal with me?’

‘No!’ Weeps the mum and stress eats a some cake

The mum grabs the remote and turns on Milkshake

Over the floors and hallways she sweeps

The toddler feels ignored so tantrums and weeps

‘Christ on a bike’ the stressed mum sighs

‘I not tired’ says toddler, rubbing its eyes

On through the day til mum’s climbing the walls

The the kid’s dozing off when the delivery man calls

‘Shhh’ hisses the mum as she runs to the door

‘I am your Ocado order as pricey as can be- would you like to spend nap time unpacking me?’

‘No!’ weeps the mum and picks up her phone

I’m having a crap day and I feel all alone

Then all of a sudden, on thundering wheels

Arrives a car load of women bearing children and meals

They’ve got snacks for the kids and booze for the mums

Chargers for iPads and Wet Wipes for bums.

Their voice when they talk is soft and reassuring

Motherhood’s hard and lonely and boring!

‘I’m sorry’ the mum mumbles ‘I made a mistake.

I thought I would craft and nurture and bake

It’s nice that you came here and made me feel normal

So I can burn Gina Ford books and everything floral’

‘Yes!’ cry the mums ‘You keep keeping on!’

The mum tightens her top knot


Her worries are gone.