I’ve seen all the slummy mummy blogs: Brummy Mummy, The Unmumsy Mum, the Single Slummy Mummy, the Scummy Mummies. But they are not for me. And Mummy Needs Wine is totally out of my league as I haven’t had a drink for 21 years after a terrible rock bottom. The odd glass of wine won’t help my sanity while coping with the highs and lows of parenting and “hellidays”. No, it will destroy me, and my kids would likely be taken off me. It’s scary. That’s why I’m in 12-step recovery.
As a mum – who reaches for carbs in a crisis – I’m more of a perfectionist. But I have to be honest, I’m so fed up with it. So I’ve decided to do a U-turn for therapeutic reasons. The look I’m going for this week is squatter chic. It’s not too difficult to achieve with the dog and the kids if I just don’t clear up. I’m going to stop wanting everything clean and serene.
But why am I striving for perfection? It’s elusive and expensive. If Lola scooters into a white gloss kitchen door and dents it, I replace it. My paycheck is spent on stain remover powder to erase tomato marks on kid’s clothes – a tub costs £18. I fill my trolley with cleaning products, not bottles of sauvignon.
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