A Modern Mother

Mummy, why are we girls?

I get up early. By 6.15 I am down stairs in the living room with a laptop with a steaming cup of coffee. I try to get a good hour or so of work done before the kids get up.

But for the past week, HM (high maintenance), my 3 and ½-year-old, has woken up before her two older sisters and tip toed down the stairs with her blanket and pillow and snuggled in my lap.

I love this time with her. She looks into my eyes, revels in my undivided attention, and tells me something about her life:  The name of a new friend. A toy she wants. A declaration that she doesn’t like Cheerios.

Today she looked at me and asked: “Mummy, why are we girls?”

I could hear my husband snickering from the kitchen as he poured his coffee. I sensed that he was thrilled that it was I that was asked the question.

Leave the hubbies at home: How to double your income from charity events

Our PTA financed a fantastic new playground this summer. The new play equipment is extremely popular with the children, but the downside is that we “shot the wad” so to speak. We need money.

Our next major fund raiser is the Winter Ball. It’s “black tie and glamorous frocks” and includes a three course meal at a local golf club, with a band and an auction of promises.

It should be a wonderful event. Tickets sold out the day they went on sale (at £100 a pop). I was one of the lucky ones.

The problem is my husband does not want to go to the ball. And I bet that most of the husbands do not share their wives' enthusiasm for attending this fund raiser.

Conversations with a Polish housecleaner

A friend of mine just moved to the area and wanted a housecleaner. I said I would ask our cleaner, Ivana, if she was taking on new clients.

Ivana is from Poland and very hard working. She lives here with her 14-year-old daughter; they have a flat in the center of town above a funeral home.

She is worth her weight in gold. She actually picks up things when she dusts, instead of going around them. I can tell when she has vacuumed, the large worn Duresta sofa, which can easily accomodate 10, is slightly out of place.

She is not much on conversation. Her English is limited. The only time she makes a point to say something to me is when she wants a day off.

Coffee mornings and threadworms

I love coffee mornings. Women get together and discuss all sorts of things that they wouldn’t dream of mentioning on the playground or at a dinner party.

This week the topics drifted from Sarah Palin (the UK is actually frightened) to Jerusalem artichokes (I had no idea!) to threadworms.

My ears perked up when the discussion turned to threadworms. It’s one of those topics people don’t often talk about in public, like flatulence, headlice, and sex.

It turns out that threadworms (knows as "pinworms" in the US) are quite common in the UK, and most of the mums at the coffee morning had dealt with them at one point.

Oh, my.

A couple of my daughters have been complaining lately of itching “down there” and I had put it down to, how shall I say this, a lack of understanding on how to use toilet paper properly.

Playdate etiquette – the unwritten rules

When I was little and was bored with my four brothers and sisters – I would disappear next door to play with my best friend. We would practice endless baton routines with The Carpenters Mr Postman Please blaring in the background on a record player. I had an open invitation and my mother always knew where to find me.

Today, playing with your best friend is more formal. We fit in “playdates” between swimming, football and French. The spontaneity is gone.  I know one mother who has playdates booked months in advance. She's a working mum and pencils in our daughter's name between items like "Ian's review" and "ops meeting".

If you are new to the wonderful world of arranging your child’s extracurricular play time, here are the unwritten rules.

Class reps: We need you!

I haven't decided if I'm going to the PTA meeting this week. Why?  For every hour spent in a PTA meeting, I end up doing two hours of PTA work. And if I have a glass of wine, it will end up being three hours.

This meeting is the one in which class reps are assigned. So if I get roped in volunteer to be a class rep, it’s not just double the time, but exponentially more time.

I know that if no one else’s hand goes up for one of my children’s classes, the guilt will set in and I'll find my arm defying my brain.

Immediately I'll regret this. My husband's inevitable last words will ring in my ear: "DON'T commit to anything, honey." Oooppps.

I help out primarily for the same reason I do other school volunteer work – to make my children’s education experience the best it can be.

The New Mummy Wars

To work or not to work? That is the question that many mums struggle over -- torn between career and being there for the children.

These wars, more prominent in the US, have been exemplified with the nomination of Alaska governor Sarah Palin as Republican John McCain’s vice presidential running mate.

With five children, one only five months old with special needs, and a pregnant teenage daughter, many are questioning whether she has the time to take on such an important role, and to be blunt, whether or not she should.

I find it very difficult to juggle part-time work and three kids. I am constantly tired and struggle to get the balance right. I am in awe of any woman that is so together that they take on motherhood AND the 2nd highest post in the world’s richest economic nation. But I can't help thinking that the reality is that one role will come first.

Go on then, be a dinner lady

I volunteer as a dinner lady at my daughters' school.

I did it out of sheer desperation. I had no idea what was going on at that hallowed institution – my daughter offers very little insight.

Before being a dinner lady, this is how our conversations would go as we made our way home:

Me: “how was school today, sweetie?”

Daughter:  (looking around to see if any of her friends were still on the school premises; she spots one) “Hello Ella!”