Parenting Qualification #2: The Ability To Be A Bitch.... In A Nice Way!

I have been blessed with a wonderful Mothers' Group, but I have heard some horror stories about others out there. And, to be honest, I'm not surprised, because mothers are bitches. We totally are. Some of us hide it better than others, but it lurks inside all of us.

Don't agree? Well, think back to when you had your first child. Attending that first mother's group. Hoping everyone will like you. (You only hoped that because, deep down, you know mothers are bitches.) Checking out everyone else' babies and noting with some satisfaction that your dear little one is not only by far the most beautiful, but is obviously the most advanced. Oh dear. Except for little Johnny over there. He's already rolling. Well, its ok, I bet his mother is a bitch.

Remember the concerned conversations about other mothers in the group? "Oooohhh, is she not coping very well? Oh dear, I must stop by." whilst hiding the smile lurking at the corners of our mouths behind a cup of green decaffinated tea. Don't lie to yourself, now, we all did it. There was some kind of perverse satisfaction we gained from thinking that other mothers were not swimming through motherhood.

By the time you have your third child, its a different story. Now, your conversations about other mums are more likely to go "well, of course she's not bloody coping! She has children!" You know that anyone who looks like they are swimming through motherhood are either full of shit or taking their kids' ADD medication.

It's the same with weightloss. All mothers are concerned with their weight. And yet, every now and then, I will come across someone who claims to love their stretch marks, as they are constant reminders of carrying their three precious children. Bollocks. Anyone who says this is lying. No woman loves their stretch marks. My stretch marks are indeed reminders of my three children, and I tell you, that knowledge does not make it easier to love the little darlings on those bad days. Also, I seem to collect an extra stomach every time I have a child. And not in the convenient "It's ok, I have an extra stomach especially for dessert" kind of way. More like, if you saw me naked you could be forgiven for thinking that all three of my children crawled right back up there.

To make things worse, at school pickup, there are always the merry band of Lycra Mums. And I'm not talking about the Lycra-wearing mums that convince you in one unfortunate glance that anything made of Lycra should NEVER come in a size larger than an eight. I'm talking about the ones who must have made some god-awful deal with the devil to be able to keep the bodies they had when they were 16. We tell them they look wonderful, they did such a good job of losing the 100 grams of baby weight they had after popping out their fourth child and pretend we know what they are talking about when they go on about getting a high from running. "Bitch. I heard she's shagging her PT. I bet when she stops getting 'free' sessions, she'll swell up like a blowfish."

Well if you are like me, and lycra makes you look less like Catwoman and more like an overweight elephant seal, then you may take comfort in this short clip. It's gold.

All mother are bitches.