Crummy mummy?

Is it just me or does everyone wonder what sort of Mum they are?

I’ve never been that fond of the Yummy Mummy tag and not just because it would take hair extensions, new boobs, a tummy tuck and a facelift and a four wheel drive to even get me close, but more because it was one more thing a mum had to worry about! As if what to have for dinner and whether or not the kids toilet is clean enough for unexpected visitors wasn’t enough to make me feel stressed!

Now there’s a couple of new labels. The slummy mummy (thank you Britney, you can put your undies back on now Princess) and the alpha mum.
When I first heard about the slummy mummy it was to compare the scarily perfect Victoria Beckham with poor old Brit but a British writer Fiona Neill has hit back in defence of Britney and I love it. She’s written a book The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy, in which she confesses to lurching from one cock up to another…just trying to get the job done. Not necessarily with perfect hair and a freezer full of home baked organic meals.
The alpha mum is not new really, I’ve known her for years. She’s the one who’s got her one year old signed up for swimming and gymbaroo. She plays French tapes to her three year old and her year oner is being tutored during the holidays.
At school, she’s usually the one in the playground complaining about school standards. Her kid is usually pale and stressed.
Obviously, I absolutely don’t want to be the alpha Mum, but something about her makes me a little scared too….with over-achievers on the increase, surely there’s a chance my cruisey little middle of the roaders might never get a job!!!
Alpha Mummy…Yummy Mummy…Slummy Mummy…Bummy Mummy (that’s what I think I might be)….Whatever!

I know you saw the schmalty ending coming….but it’s true.
There’s only one label that really matters, good old ‘my mummy’….I think I’ll let my kids be the judge….