giving an impression of dull domesticity; dowdy or unfashionable.
"she wore a big mumsy dress"
I used to think that, the only way to remain youthful, was to not have any kids. I truly believed that if I had kids everything about me, that encapsulated childlike wonder, would be lost or at best passed forward to my offspring. I thought I would become boring or ‘mumdane’ as I called it and I absolutely believed that to be ‘mumsy’ was weak and a waste of my life.
I could not have been more wrong.
Being a mum to Phoenix has made me even more of a Peter Pan than I ever was. Because of my child I see magic around every corner, it dances on the wind, whispering to me to come and delight in the world. Seeing the world through his eyes, it all makes a kaleidoscopic sense to me, which is the best type of sense there is by the way. The wonder, the joy of being alive is everywhere I turn when he is around.
I have been absent on my blog recently because of a great deal of external stress. The power of that stress causing me to lose my internal voice, the voice of my very soul. A voice every writer needs to access so they can express their feelings and thoughts. Thoughts they don’t even realise exist until they have poured them on to the page. To lose this is horrible to experience and frustrating as a writer.
However, even though my internal voice failed me, my ‘mumsy-ness’ surprised me with its strength. Through all the stress and worry, I have still found it easy to be a mum. I have found it easy to look at my son with pure joy and I am still able to relish every single moment I have with him.
The over brimming joy he gives me dissolves the stress whenever I am in his presence. Gifting me and his wonderful father, with magic and laughter. Reminding me why I am here and to keep going.
Even when it has felt like the matrix around me is caving in with the pressure of some of the situations that I have found myself in and I have felt like I am fading away…. one impromptu cuddle from my little boy or a smile or even just to see his face as he sleeps, can instantly make me feel like I am the luckiest, happiest person alive. Which I have come to determine means, I am the luckiest, happiest person alive.
The power of being a parent is so marvellous, that when all else around you is in turmoil, one smile from your child can instantly transport you to Neverland, where magic and fairytale abounds.
Just like Peter Pan all children are “beautiful, wild and hateful towards adults.” Such a wonderful description of why children give us so much joy, even as we tear our hair out.
Because of Phoenix and all children’s Pan-like qualities I want to be mumsy please.
I hope he sees my mumsy Mrs Darling-like kiss at the corner of my mouth mocking him because of the joy he brings me. I hope he wonders, is it a dimple, a smile or a shadow? Or perhaps he thinks it’s something not visible at all, a charm and an inaccessible depth.
Like Peter, that kiss is youth itself and Phoenix doesn’t know it yet and maybe he never will - but he gave it to me because I am his mum.
The dimple is the everlasting protection I will feel for him always and forever, the smile is the joy he brings and the shadow is my past reminding me how much more magical life is now all because of him.
I don’t want to be a slummy mummy, I want to be magical mumsy Mrs Darling type mum.
Recently in The Mail, someone was slagging off Slummy Mummies and bloggers and I read it expecting to be angry with the piece, wanting to stick up for Slummy Mummies ….. but in the end, I think they are right. The fashion of 'Slummy Mummies' is not a healthy one for our children.
You can read it on the link below but the gist of it was this
· What should we make of modern day mothers' gin-soaked shortcomings?
· Many indulge in ranting about their little ones on social media
· Others seem proud to post pics of humourous punishments and quick-fix meals
I don’t boast about drinking wine or gin like some of the mums in this article - because I would never drink around my child or any child. I don’t think any parent should.
It’s no secret that before my Cbeebies days from age 24-26 years old, I had a drug problem. It was in the National newspapers. In fact, although I had already been sacked from Cbeeies for posing naked for PETA, I was still on TV for 2 years after I had been sacked - but after that article came out, all the shows (apart from Zingzillas) that I had been involved in were immediately taken off the air, even though I had been 11 years clean of drugs at that point and 2 years clean before I had ever even worked on Cbeebies.
I think they were right to do so though – my only complaint about it is that we live in such a hypercritical world when it comes to kids. A woman (not a mum at the time) who entertains children and hasn’t even had a drink for 11 years and took no drugs while working on the channel - is cast out for telling the truth – but mums drinking gin or a bottle of wine while cooking tea and almost boasting about it is funny?
It is hard being a mum. It’s a damn sight harder than being a kid’s TV presenter and don’t we owe it to our kids to be the best we can be when doing the job of being a parent? Is it even a job? Shouldn’t it be a privilege?
It’s a miracle to be a parent and anyone who has lost a child either during pregnancy or after knows that. It’s an absolute honour to be called mum and if we only excel at one thing in our lives, it should be that.
If trying to be the best mum you can be means being mumsy, then I would be proud to be accepted into that club!
I’m not saying you must be perfect either because not one person on this planet is the perfect parent but we should at least make it a role we take a great deal of pride in.
Let’s look at that definition again…
“giving an impression of dull domesticity; dowdy or unfashionable”
I will never ever be a domestic goddess, no matter how hard I try. I like a clean house but with the number of toys about our house, that’s tough. I don’t mind being dull though if it means my son lives in a hygienic home. I can’t cook but as he gets older I will try my hardest to give him a variety of lovely food, even if we have to eat out a lot. I’ve recently started ironing his clothes too and I’ve never ironed my clothes but I don’ want him to be one of the kids at school with creased clothes.
If being a mumsy means, being unfashionable or hated or dull, I will swallow that pill happily because to my mind, it means putting my baby before all else and when he brings me so much joy, even when the whole world around me feels like it’s crumbling, he absolutely deserves the best and all children do.
I am mumsy and proud, I hope you will join me - now I’m off to buy an apron!
“If she was too fond of her rubbishy children she couldn't help it. Look at her in her chair, where she has fallen asleep. The corner of her mouth, where one looks first, is almost withered up. Her hand moves restlessly on her breast as if she had a pain there. Some like Peter best and some like Wendy best, but I like her best.”
I don't like sharing my baby too much online- but I think when you see this little clip of him you will understand how he melted my heart - the very thing that is needed to create the magic of Mrs Daring's kiss...