Member-only story
I’ll never be a ‘proper’ mum.
So what!
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be what my inner critic calls a ‘proper mum’.
Somewhere, in the recesses of my mind lives a story that a ‘proper mum’ doesn’t work and she certainly does not own a business. She leaves the house with proper hair and there is always, always a full biscuit tin, afternoon tea on the table to greet hungry kids returning from school and a hot meal in the evening.
Proper mums don’t get frustrated when their kids pile up washing on the bathroom floor, they chortle quietly and pick up up. They iron, they clean, they smile and they do coffee with friends maybe after tennis. Proper mums volunteer for canteen and reading duty and are front and centre at P&C meetings. They play both Monopoly and Barbie Dolls and don’t mind a spot of french cricket.
The kids of proper mums don’t need to suffer the mother going away on business trips nor juggling the school play versus a late night coaching call because proper mums don’t do that.
How I conjured this ‘proper’ mum myth is anyone’s guess as this mum is not really a mum of my times, it’s certainly nothing like the strong and capable mum that raised me and (quite frankly) if I presented my children with this mum they’d ask me if I had started taking drugs.
