Category: Mum friends

#cherishedmemories · children · Honest mum · mum · Mum friends · Parenting

Birthday Parties

Playground Politics1 Comment

When your child starts school, you may as well cancel any weekend plans for the rest of the school year due to the 29 birthday parties you will get invited to. You want them to make friends (and secretly want to make friends yourselves) and so you go to all of them. This is great until May rolls around and you would rather put your head in the oven then see another bloody balloon.

As they got older, they’ve chosen their friends, you’ve clocked the naughty kids and discovered the parents you get on with, therefore making this party malarkey a whole lot easier.

Until then, my advice to you is: Don’t go to them all.

My little Turderoo is what we call “a sensitive soul” aka an emotional freaking wreck. Here is a list of things he doesn’t like:

Lots of people, new people, grown-ups, loud music, loud shouting, darkness, being separated from me, dancing, competitions, face painting and people dressed up.

Yeah. Happy fucking birthday to you random kid I’ve never heard of. This party better be worth it.

The party etiquette is a little confusing at this age too – do you leave them? Do you stay? How much do you spend on a present? Can you just not go because you can’t be arsed or is it more polite to make up a lie? Can you bring toddlers? Will they be fed? And fed enough that I don’t have to feed them or awkward-time feeding where it’s after lunch, not quite dinner so I still have to cook after this?!

From what I’ve learnt being a Reception mum:

Stay with them. Especially if you also wield “a sensitive soul”.

They will be fed. If not, the sugar from all the Haribo that gets doled out will sustain them until midnight.

Bring toddlers but do not expect food/goody bags for them – that would be rude.

Present buying; If it is a kid you’re child has no particular interest in, up to £5 generic craft/colouring crap is fine. If they have proclaimed their marriage to said birthday girl/boy, up to £10 with consideration to their personal interest is fair. Also use recyclable paper. People seem really into that these days.

Oh and never underestimate the power of a goody bag. A little bag containing cake, sweets and Chinese plastic tat that breaks immediately will make your little one’s bloody day. Never forget it – I learnt this the hard way after leaving it in somebody’s car – you will never hear the end of it.

It seems plastic medals, cake and bubbles and 100% winners on the goody bag front. Once got a pair of themed socks which was very much appreciated.

Did not appreciate mini jigsaw puzzles (I mean, really?!) or Maom sweets (who can actually chew these let alone enjoy them?!)

Essentially, a party is a winner if nobody cries. Once Turd, Turdette and then I all cried at a party. Not my proudest moment. He got freaked out by a dressed up pig while she whinged and moaned (for like a continuous year) and at this point instead of comforting him like a normal mother, I lost my shit and then cried with guilt. Received some judgemental looks in the process but hey-ho.

He got a plastic medal.

#winning

#cherishedmemories · children · Honest mum · mum · Mum friends · Parenting

Small talk survival guide

Playground Politics1 Comment

Small talk in the playground or at toddler groups is an inevitable ritual when you’re a mum. Yet the small talk is all a lie – you need to dig a little deeper to find the truth. So here is a guide I hope you find useful (and I wish somebody showed me when I first became a mum.)

Question: “What do you do?” Translation: “Stay-at-home mum? Ahhh thought so…”

Question: “What does your husband do?” Translation: “How rich are you people??“

Question: “Where about do you live?” Translation: “Are you in the posh area??“

Question: “That’s cute…is it from Joules?” Translation: “Please tell me it’s from the eBay Joules outlet store otherwise we are in completely different leagues.”

Question: “Any plans for the weekend?” Translation: “Don’t care – let me tell you about the fantastic family day out we have planned followed by the drinks we’re having in the evening with our huge number of friends.”

Question: “Blah blah blah, I mean the cleaner comes that day anyway, blah blah…” Translation: “Yeah that’s right bitch, we’ve got a cleaner. Jealous much?”

Question: “So are you doing anything nice for your birthday?” Translation: “Let’s see/hope/pray this person has a non-existent social life like me…”

Question: “Are you thinking of having any more kids?” Translation: “Because I don’t want to be alone in this…”

Essentially, mum chit chat all comes down to comparison. We are insecure and equally jealous creatures, constantly comparing as every other person you know seems to have it better.

They may live in the posh area but pay a stonking mortgage they can barely afford. They may do nice things for their birthdays but that’s to makeup for the lack of nice things the rest of the year. They may have a cleaner, but that’s because their just lazy… (I’m joking. Kind of. I’m just jealous.)

Small talk is a polite way to validate ourselves. And to find out where the other mums live so we can look up it on Prime Location and figure out how much money they have and compare it to our own crappy house.

Come on now, let’s be honest.


Honest mum · mum · Mum friends · Parenting

The thing about mum friends…

Playground Politics3 Comments

Is that every conversation is about kids.

Which is nice. Sometimes. But I miss real friendship.

Friends you can just laugh with, chat about films, food music and games. Not about nap schedules, phonics books and potty training.

Of course being a mum, these conversations are inevitable but you when you pop a sprog you automatically become tied to people who you share no real common ground with. You don’t have similar hobbies, opinions or sense of humour. Kids unite you – and that can be pretty dull.

Yet you see these people so much they become your friends through definition. I could have several messages on my phone asking if I will be at said toddler group/soft play/birthday party but I think my last invitation out with people strictly over the age of 18 was about a year ago!

It’s tragic. My kids have a better social life than me. Or my social life comprises of kids. Either way you look at it, it’s depressing.

When I ask somebody, “how are you?” I genuinely want to know how they are doing. As an individual. As a person. What their highs and lows are, what they have been up to or what they are hoping to do. Not host a discussion about weaning or eczema.

I think it would be better if we could all just wear tags a little like this:

Likes: Call the midwife, crafts and when people fall over.

Dislikes: Narcissism, mushrooms and when people do not fall over.

Easy. Scan the tag, assess potential and move on.

Too much time has been wasted dillydallying in mum small talk, thinking their is a potential friend there, to then realise that this person is a big dull dud. It’s too late by this point. Too many conversations have been exchanged and by definition this person is now my friend and there is nothing I can do about it except for tiptoe about and not be myself.

Mum Tinder, here we come.