Super Mum and Me

Six months! How’s the night? Sleeping through, right?’ 

Asks yet another well-slept and slightly smug mother. 


Are these eyes open and bright or bagged and tight? 

Do they really look like they’ve been closed all night? 

They haven’t just returned with a tan from a luxurious holiday on the Isle of Nod, 

They’re more hiking boots, backpack on, torch out – survival mode, you stupid sod. 

This mouth is too tired to answer, but it lets out a ‘Ha! if only’ 

I am now hallucinating that she is the pink one from My Little Pony

with her brushed, shiny hair, wide mascaraed eyes and smooth moisturised skin,

‘James was definitely sleeping through the night by then and so were the twins!’ 

I am now staring into space, dribbling from exhaustion, 

caution, caution, 

I am about to pass out all over your quilt of bullshit, 

it looks so comfortable, feathery, soft and oooh is it silk? 

Three babies sleeping all night long, not interested in milk?  

No teething, no regression, no babbling, no crying? 

Just every night 7 to 7 – PLEASE tell me you’re lying,

You rummage through your colour-coordinated nappy bag,   

everything neatly placed and very tightly packed,

Different compartments for sweet and savoury snacks, 

I bet your kitchen is labelled and you ALWAYS wear matching socks, 

My bags spills onto the floor – dirty muslin, dummies fly out their box. 

I start to pick things up and notice while down there, a slight smell of dog poo, 

If I was to lift my foot, I know I’d find it squidged into the grooves of my shoe. 

Super Mum picks up a nappy ‘are you okay there, can I give you a hand?’ 

I stare at her skin tone against the Pamper’s green, HOW is she so tanned?’

I watch her moisturised nose twitch, mine still dry and flakey from last month’s snuffle, 

Oh no she can smell the shit!  She thinks it’s me! ‘Thank you, thank you! Such a kerfuffle!’ 

A wail comes from the pram,

Alf! You beautiful little man! 

‘Thank you for your help! I think he’s hungry so I better go’ 

‘No worries! Nice to meet you! I hope you get some rest’ 

I walk away, knowing I’ve failed the efficient parenting test 

But I don’t frown, wail or  cry, 

only let out a self-accepting sigh. 

I pick up my foot and as expected, there’s shit all over the sole,

I look at you, a smile twitches across your face, eating it whole, 

I was always underslept, odd socks, broken bag and shitty shoe, 

It’s really nothing new. 

But now I get to be all those things AND hang out with you.