On being the worst mum in the world

There are so many things that I do wrong:

I smoke (but I really really really want to stop)

I drink wine to numb myself before the bedtime routine starts (but I try to have a couple of days on the wagon every week)

I swear waaaay too much and enjoy it sometimes (but not in front of the kids... often.)

I hid behind a door yesterday in fits of stifled giggles when J shouted "King Bursterds" at the spiders in Cut the Rope.

I do not want the school PTA ladies to be my friends.

I only floss once a week.

I haven't grown out of Drum'n'Bass yet.

My handbag looks like a tiny zombie apocalypse has taken place in there.

I've given up sending Christmas cards and forget most people's birthdays.

I don't suffer fools gladly - or at all, these days.

I don't have a fancy kitchen extension.

I sometimes only wash my hair every 5 days.

The list could carry on and on. Basically, I'm a bit crap. Not at all the type of mother that I thought that mothers should be and certainly not the Yummy type of Mummy that you read about in glossy magazines.

And then, oh good grief, then there are my many parenting downfalls and, yes, there's the Autism thing but, Hell's teeth, woman! I am guilty of the following crimes:

My children's diets are pretty poor - oh have I tried to make it otherwise to no avail - but have now given up. J eats pizza most days and G has chicken nuggets. I bribe them to eat fruit.

Yep, there's another - I cook them separate meals - mug!

Both boys' special interests are now computer-related and they spend waaaay too much time in front of screens.

I've handed over homework duties to Dave because I can't do either of their maths any more.

They do not take vitamins.

I let them wear odd socks and occasionally retrieve favourite clothes out of the dirty laundry for them to wear if I haven't had time to do the washing.

I'm lax about making them wash hands before dinner unless totally caked with mud (for lax, read "has given up with this too"). 

Oh god - I don't even make J use cutlery to eat his pizza....!

I don't make them do any sports. None. At all. Apart from dog walking. Slowly, and often in different directions.

Agh! I didn't mean for it to be this way. Like most people, I knew exactly what type of mother I was going to be and exactly what type of kids I was going to have. Before I had kids. But, with the immortal words that tumbled from my lips (unrepeatable and not good) the moment I gave birth to my firstborn, that was all blown to a million pieces.  At that point the reality of parenting became very very real. And it's hard being a parent. Really hard. Whatever type of kids you have - Autism or not. I can't imagine anyone finding it a doddle - there's just so much responsibility and so many do's and don'ts and shoulds and must-haves and "What do you mean your children have never been on a plane?" and and and....

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

There.

And here's the thing, as I see it. The thing is that none of us are perfect. Even the ones who look perfect are not perfect (and I know for a F.A.C.T. that one of the PTA ladies used to be a crack whore.....or did I dream that...?). Anyhoo, we all choose which battles we want to fight. The lady who thinks it's more important to have a tidy house than spend time with her kids has chosen her battle. The mum who earns good money which buys her kids a great education has chosen hers. The mum who chose to stay at home rather than go back to work but can't give her kids material luxuries has chosen her battle. Nobody's right or wrong here, as long as we all do what we believe is right for our families. And OF COURSE we tear our hair out sweating the small stuff - it's our right as human beings and women to do this to ourselves. And it would be a world full of very VERY dull children - and very smug King Bursterds -  if we all got it right all the time!