Have you heard the news? I’m the perfect mum.
A friend called me that in an email to mutual friend recently (who then reported back to me). And the general feeling is that it was done, not so much to compliment me, but to make the other friend feel lesser (and she’s a GREAT mum). A bit crappy, right?
The source of the compliment has seen me for exactly two hours in the past year. So, really, not that qualified an opinion.
My first response was to write a post listing all the reasons I’m not the perfect mum. But that would be too long. And not all that productive.
Why is it that mothers are judged against others anyway? This is a bit of a bug bear with me. I have seen enough arguments online about whether good mothers let their babies sleep in the car while they pay for petrol (“what if some random drug-fuelled stranger steals your car with the baby inside?!”) or wake them up and carry them inside (“what if an out-of-control car mows you down while you are walking across the driveway?!”) to think it’s a waste of energy and not at all helpful to the sisterhood.
Honestly, who the fuck cares?
I’d wrestle 20 bears for my kids.* Wouldn’t you?
Great, we’re even.
I figure I’m the perfect mum for my kids. I’m the one that cleans up their vomit and kisses them on their foreheads when they’re sick. And I’m the one that remembers to go to school and pay the choir levy so they can perform at the end of term concert. And I’m the one that gets up in the middle of the night to rock a sad teething baby back to sleep.
And I figure you’re probably the perfect mum for your kids. Don’t you think?
Can we all agree to just love our kids and mind our own freaking business now?
We all win. Yay us!
* Okay, I wouldn’t seek out 20 bears to wrestle in some sort of exhibition match. I would only do it if they were actually threatening to eat my children in the immediate future.