Super Mum Syndrome


LOML is away for the week, so of course I’ve morphed into Super Mum and can’t sleep a wink.

Do you do this?

The minute I’m parenting on my own, I’m super-vigilant, super-responsible, super-patient, super-tidy and super-organised. It’s exhausting, but I can’t help it. If it wasn’t for the fact that I couldn’t possibly sustain this uber-parenting style for longer than, oh, a week, I would definitely believe that kids are better off with only one parent.

I think I cruise a little bit when there is the two of us. “Oh,” I think. “What’s it matter?  LOML can read The Badoo That Annoying Princess Book later, so I’ll palm her off for now.” Or “LOML wrestled with the Tsunamis for hours this morning, so I’ll just smile and wave at them on the trampoline while I read my book.” Then there’s the enabling: “LOML’s doing his own thing too, and he’s not worried that it’s 20 past one and the Tsunamis are rummaging in the bins for lunch, so why should I?”

That type of thing.

There’ll be none of that now I’m on my own. I’m strong and steely and endlessly cheerful. “It’s all up to you,” I think. “You’re responsible for the happiness of these children today, tonight and for the rest of the week, their lives. So, mother-up, we’re going in.”

The Tsunamis love Super Mum. She’s endlessly patient, inventive and kind. Who cares if she’s a bit over-excited and can’t seem to stop moving? She’s just very, very cheery is all. Very cheery. And, Mum, MUM!  I’m still drinking that... oh well, at least she’s not bugging us to help her clean up.

No, really, do you do this too?

[Image by tibiloo]