Sh*t Just Got Real

We are now in week three of my gorgeous girl starting school. She is so happy. She is doing amazingly well. Runs into school. Skips out smiling. It's amazing and I couldn't be more pleased. But I have come to the realisation. That sh*t just got real. I'm not just a lady who has small children and pootles around doing whatever I want (which is generally moaning a bit squashed in between times of loving the pair of them to death). Now? I am a 'Mum'.

I AM A MUM! Like someone who has to actually be responsible and sh*t. Someone who is a role model. Who has to remember stuff and has to think about such important things as: how much does one donate to the harvest festival, are beans an appropriate harvest festival item, has child at school got pe kit/bag/homework/letter about being allowed facepaints/all of the above. There is a hell of a lot to remember. And then there's the extra things...

Like parties. My girl officially has a far better social life than me. She has already been invited to three parties. And I always thought ah it's OK I can just cobble together a cheap card and gift. But no. I am starting to worry that the gifts aren't good enough. That a card from poundland will not suffice. The card MUST have a number on. The gift MUST be given in a nice bag. There are politics around who is invited and who to invite. And whilst my daughter's birthday is not until December. I am already thinking about the contents of party bags.

Whilst technically speaking I should have more time on my hands. I feel like my mind is full of #firstworldmumprobs such as "why is my daughter wearing another child's jumper?". Getting to school early this morning for a joint school photo with my son resulted in a pair of terrified children gurning at their sweaty manic Mother who was screaming "SMILE FOR MUMMY" like a loon.

I'm hoping it's an adjustment. I'm hoping my 'Mum' calendar in the kitchen will one day make me smile rather than shaking my head and thinking "jeez Mum calendars suck ass". That I will get into the swing in things. That this time next year ALL of her school clothes will be labelled and I will make homemade bread for the harvest festival (this will never happen). But for now I am just accepting that I'm a little bit crap and my weekends now revolve around praying that there's food for the adults at a variety of five year old birthday parties. Rock N Roll.
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