As happens so often... I sat down today with the intention of writing about one thing, and ended up writing about another.
I’ve been reading again, and something I read this morning, on top of many things I’ve read over the last few months, came to a stinging, bile-filled head and had me smashing out a rant instead of the thoughtful post I’d planned about my dilemma over putting my seven-and-a-half year old in a buggy in front of our friends’ five year old.
I have noticed a trend of late.
The ones who write, most bravely and openly, about how hard parenthood is.
How much gin/wine/Prosecco/vodka/lighter fluid it is necessary for them to swill, in order to cope for even part of the day with the tribe of little monsters/sh*ts/demons that fate has seen fit to saddle them with (funny how few of them seem to have ‘children’).
Well now, I thought, being the compassionate soul that I am, I have the perfect product to lend help and succour to these poor, benighted, suffering women in their hour of need:
Walking just one mile a day in Special Needs Mummy Shoes brings:
The ability to endure a full day* of parenting without the need to resort to alcohol OR coffee, tea, any kind of food, toilet breaks or sleep! (*A day may last anywhere from 18 to 72 hours)
Amazing clarity of vision – allowing the wearer to see the difference between a toddler tantrum and a full-on sensory meltdown.
A new, improved sense of perspective – bestowing upon the wearer the Zen-like realisation that the prospect of not getting the school place you want is not a life-or-death situation.
The ability to become a self-taught medical expert and education specialist, whilst also managing medication/equipment, therapies, outpatient appointments, hospital stays, review meetings, work, study, marriage, other children, household management and sleep deprivation.
Vastly improved olfactory function – put them on as soon as you wake up and you will not only be able to smell the coffee, but also the bed of roses you’re lying on.
SPECIAL NEEDS MUMMY SHOES – brought to you by ExtremeParenting.me
I know, I know, I shouldn’t judge: everyone is fighting a battle others know nothing about. I shouldn’t have to point out that this post is flippant and not intended to be taken seriously, but I will, because there’s always one, isn’t there, who misunderstands the concept of tongue-in-cheek, and gets their head stuck right up their fundament (not that cheek, dear!).
It’s been a long day, but, I am pleased to report, I have managed to write this post using very few swear words, and whilst drinking nothing stronger than a cup of lemon tea.
I’ll never make a Mainstream mummy blogger, will I?
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