Take the Cape Off, Mum: Why Supermum Isn’t the Goal (And Never Was)
Cape Is Off!
You probably noticed that the title says Mum and not Parent! No disrespect to the dads doing their bit (we see you), but can we just take a moment to appreciate what we actually do as mothers? Because let’s be real - society, and sadly even us sometimes, have bought into this whole “Wonder Woman” identity, and honestly? It’s doing us a disservice.
I found myself yet again on a weekday morning, dragging my tired self up to get my toddler ready for nursery. Of course, this was the morning he decided to have a full-blown meltdown.
The entire car ride, he screamed his lungs out, kicking the back of the seat in fury - all because I didn’t bring his Bluey hat. The very same Bluey hat I offered him before we left the house, and he refused. Please make it make sense.
We got to nursery, and I opened the car door, only to see him brace himself like a tiny warrior. Arms crossed, legs locked - basically daring me to try and move him.
And in that moment, all I wanted to do was sit in the driver’s seat and cry.
I paused. I could either pull him out kicking and screaming, feeling like the hot mess of a mum I sometimes think I am, or I could give him a minute.
So, I gave him a minute.
Then I gently asked, “Would you like to get out now?” while sliding his arm out of the seat strap. Still no joy. I waited again. Then said, “Do you want a cuddle?” With a frown, he mumbled, “yeh.”
He clung onto me. I carried him in, his head on my shoulder. I whispered, Mummy’s here. Mummy’s got you. Mummy’s got us.
By the time we got inside, he was calm, tears dried, ready for the day.
Meanwhile, Back at the Chaos…
I got back to the car, feeling fragile and just done, and my phone rang - it was my eldest. His bus pass hadn’t worked, so he couldn’t get to school.
Because of course. Who else would he call?
So, there I go — off to rescue child number two.
Mid-drive, the tyre pressure warning light came on.
FOR F**K’S SAKE
It wasn’t even 8:30am and I was already ready for the day to be done.
Luckily, Wonder Mum keeps a tyre inflator in the boot (because obviously we’ve got to be mechanics too). I picked up my 15-year-old, called the bus company to sort his £250 term card that wasn’t working, and pumped the tyre - all while trying not to lose my cool on the phone.
We drove off, and I sat there in silence, holding back tears.
He looked over at me and asked, “Is that your hay fever?”
No. “I’m just feeling low. Life’s a lot sometimes. And it’s always on me.”
Thank God for sunglasses.
Can We Talk About This Supermum Bullsh*t?
I hate the label Supermum. I hate that I’m supposed to be this unbreakable superhero who juggles work, parenting, school runs, healthy meals, emotional support, chores, and apparently, single-handedly saves the planet too.
We’ve been handed this impossible job description:
Cook.
Clean.
Earn.
Nurture.
Be fit.
Stay calm.
Recycle.
Raise emotionally stable humans.
And don’t forget to moisturise and drink water.
It’s too much. It’s always too much.
And I don’t think we were ever meant to do this much.
Let the Cape Drop
If you’re one of those mums who wears the cape with pride, and it works for you? Honestly, power to you.
But for the rest of us? I think it’s time we took it off.
Time to stop trying to do the most and just do what we can.
From one mother to another: I give you permission to take the cape off.
And more importantly - I give myself permission to take it off too.
Because Let’s Be Honest…
After mornings like that, getting into work on time, surviving an 8-hour day, hoping no school calls to say someone’s been sick, getting home to do homework, cook dinner, and making sure everyone, including the teenager, has showered?
It’s A LOT.
So, if you’re feeling it too - you’re not alone.
These days, I’m choosing to be a little gentler with myself. To say no. To ask for help. To leave the dishes in the sink. To not cook dinner from scratch every night.
And if anyone’s got something to say about it…
Well… they can kiss my ass!
Peace & Blessings,