Being Mummy is a Thankless Job 

Now let me clarify, I certainly do not want to be defined as ‘Mummy’. There is so much more to me than being Mummy, and it most certainly isn’t my job! It is a shared responsibility between myself and my husband and not my job. 

But for the purposes of this post it is. Artistic licensing… 
Now, if you have a half decent boss they will thank you at the end of each day, or show some respect and gratitude when you put in a lot of effort at work. They might even give you a bonus. 
Imagine this… 

Imagine you went to work in an office and your co-workers were all running around like loons. Naked. You think to yourself, ffs not again, physically WRESTLE them to get their clothes back on and tell them to do some work. They blow a raspberry at you, do a pump, laugh about doing a pump and continue to run around and strip off again. 

You think, fuck it. And start to do your work, and all of their work as fast and as well as you can. 

Your co-workers start to fight and get a bit hyper so you decide to fix them some lunch. You don’t really have time to but you do it whilst continuing to work. 

You present it to them and they say it looks disgusting and throw it on the floor! 

You sigh and clean it up knowing that you now have even less time to do everyone’s work. 

You grab a chocolate bar for some energy, and a co-worker steals half of it, whilst patting you bum and saying ‘fatty bum bums’. 

You smile and carry on.

At the end of the day you are wrecked but have just about got everything done and your co-workers are still alive and playing nicely. 

Your boss doesn’t say anything as you leave for the day, she just says ‘pooey bum’, and skips out the door before you, narrowly missing moving cars in the car park. 
This is what being a mummy, or daddy, is like. No one thanks you for keeping the children alive all day, or ensuring they are clean and fed and don’t have hypothermia. No one thanks you for getting them to sleep or cleaning up after them like Dobbie the house elf. And you are expected to thank anyone else who does it. No one says ‘good job!’ at the end of the day, or pats you on the back when they are finally unconscious. 
If seeing your children grow and knowing that you have nurtured and cared for them to allow them to learn and develop is enough thanks for you then that’s wonderful. 
Me? I want smothered in thank you kisses, flowers and diamonds. And an employee of the month certificate. Every month. 


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