Look! You can totally be a perfect parent! Just follow these easy guidelines! (sponsored)

There is SO much pressure to be a perfect mother….. but happily, it seems that things are changing. Recent research by Ski D’Lite found that only half of Australian mothers now try to be perfect parents, with the rest of us settling for ‘good enough’. It seems like ‘practically perfect’ is the new idea.

And this is awesome. We shouldn't aim for perfection. So why are half of all women still trying to get there?

I don’t at all understand the term ‘perfect mother’. It has never made any sort of sense to me. Being a mother is not a task that can be performed to perfection; it is a relationship between two people, a parent and a child. And no relationship can be perfect, because no person is perfect. There is no such things as a perfect child, and certainly no such thing as a perfect adult, so how can there possibly be the perfect relationship?

To be ‘perfect’ at motherhood makes as much sense as being ‘perfect’ at any other type of relationship. We can’t be perfect at friendship or perfect at love. It is impossible. And it shouldn't even be a goal.

What’s more, it doesn't need to be. We don’t choose our friends because they are perfect at friendship, we choose them because we love them even with their flaws. And we don’t love our partners because they are perfect, we love them because they are perfect for us.

We don’t need to be perfect parents for our kids to love us, nor do we need to be perfect for our kids to thrive.

But we can still be ‘perfect’ at many important aspects of mothering. And when you go through the checklist, you’ll be surprised at how many you get right.

This is totally me. You can't see it but I am holding the selfie stick in my teeth.

For example:

1.       Birthing: A perfect birth is one which results in all four limbs and the head of the baby being expelled from the mother’s body by the end of the birthing process. The birth may involve pain relief, water, a surgeon, a midwife, meditation, chanting, or pretty much whatever the hell you want as long as you get the baby out.

2.       Feeding your infant: Perfect feeding occurs when the infant ingests nutrition by some means. This can involve a breast, a bottle, an eye dropper, a drip, or a fairy princess with a magic cup.

3.       Feeding your older child: A perfect meal for an older child includes food that will stop them from feeling hungry. Whilst ‘healthy’ food is ideal, and organic food is lovely and all that, it is not required for every meal, and ‘food’ can include juice, meats, Vegemite sandwiches, plain noodles… anything that has calories, really.

4.       Teaching your child to sleep: A child has been correctly taught to sleep if they spend periods of each night unconscious.

5.       Potty Training: A child has been perfectly potty trained if they learn to use the toilet some time before their twelfth birthday.

6.       Dressing your child: A perfect outfit includes clothes that more or less keep the child warm/cool/protected from the elements. Style, colour, and co-ordination are utterly irrelevant.

7.       Cuddling your child: Any cuddle is a perfect cuddle.

Check out the video below... it is seriously gorgeous and a huge relief to imperfectly perfect parents like me.

This post is sponsored by Ski D’Lite yoghurt, which I buy all the time for the kids because it is delicious, now has 25% less sugar, and doesn't require cooking, spreading or dicing into small pieces. Perfect.

The Accidental Drunk

So last night I accidentally got drunk. And when I say that, I don't mean that I accidentally drank too much and ended up inebriated (though of course that's exactly what happened, because there's really no other way one can get drunk, but it was far more complicated than that, and it really wasn't my fault, and... and...  perhaps I should just stop the preamble and get into the story).

As many of you will know, I do tend to have a little drinkie most nights on occasion. Come 5pm 7pm, I am tired from my long, hard day as a Busy Working Mum, and am ready to unwind with a glass of something mood altering. A gin and tonic, a vodka and tonic or a glass of cab sav is enough just to take the edge off my brittle corners and relax me for the evening. I don't get drunk. I don't lose control. I just feel..... ahhhhhhhh.

Of course, there are occasions when I decide to drink a little bit more, but these are few and far between*, and never, never in front of my kids. Trust me - I am unstable enough without alcohol; I don't like to impose my intoxicated self on my offspring.

Sangria. Who knew?

But last night was an accident. You see, last night as usual The Architect and I had no plans, so we decided to take the kids to dinner at a local restaurant. The kids ordered burgers, The Architect ordered something soupy with seafood, and I ordered a healthy chicken salad and a half litre of sangria.

Now, normally I can drink sangria till it's coming out of my ears. A half a litre will barely give me a buzz; it's like pink lemonade, only vaguely ethnic. So I poured myself a huge glass and drank it down on an empty stomach, pronounced it delicious, and then poured another.

And then suddenly the room started to spin. Oh god, I thought. Salt. I needed salt.

"CHIPPIES!" I cried, and fell on my daughter's plate, cramming them into my mouth handfuls at a time.

"Oh dear," said The Architect wearily. He could see the signs.

I leaned in to him earnestly and took his face in my hands. "I don't think I can drive," I told him conspiratorially. "THEY'VE. SPIKED. MY. DRINK."

"It's called 'alcohol'," he said. "Come on kids. Finish your dinner. Mummy's drunk."

"What's the matter?" I asked him, poking him repeatedly in the ribs. "Don't you love me anymore? That makes me so sad. You have to love me! TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!"

"Yes, yes," said the poor man. "Try to calm down."

"I AM CALM!" I cried. "I'M JUST A BIT DRUNK!"

"What's wrong?" asked my son.

"DRUNKETYY DRUNKETYY DRUNK!" I told him, and giggled. My son shrugged.

"Can I have a milkshake Mum?" asked my daughter.

"After a burger and chips?" I exclaimed. "SURE!!!"

The kids beamed. It made me happy. And when I'm happy I want ice cream.

"I WANT ICE CREAM!" I cried. "WHO WANTS ICE CREAM?"

"We want ice cream!" yelled the kids.

"HOORAY!" I cheered.

We finished our meal and The Architect bundled us out of the restaurant. I left my bag inside but quickly remembered when the waitress reminded me. And then The Architect drove us home and I giggled again as I walked inside.

"That was FUN!" I declared. "Now I just need a QUICK LIE DOWN and then I'll PUT THE KIDS TO BED!"

I collapsed on our bed and fell immediately asleep. It was 8.15pm. I woke up this morning at 8.30am, feeling  vibrantly refreshed and craving Vegemite toast.

The Architect, however, looked exhausted. Funny. I thought it was a really relaxing night.

*truly, Al and Val - I hadn't had to ask anyone to take my pants off for me in years

Lance Armstrong, PEDs, and the Busy Working Mum

So the truth has come out. Lance Armstrong has been using Performance Enhancing Drugs for years. Who knew?*

Lance still hasn't admitted to his wrongdoing, but plenty of others in the sport of cycling have. And this has inspired me to finally come clean about my own experience with PEDs. Because it is obvious to the entire world that I am a user.

I am embarrassed, truly. I am remorseful. I am ashamed. But in my defence, I couldn't possibly get through my days as a Busy Working Mum without some kind of chemical assistance. And besides, everybody other BWM is using too. So how could I keep up with them if I wasn't?

In Less Shameful Times

Mornings, for example, would be impossible without PEDs. My three children need to be at school at eight fifteen am. Did you hear me? EIGHT FIFTEEN AM. There is no way I can get three kids dressed, fed and out the door by eight fifteen am without the use of caffeine. Hell, I probably wouldn’t get them out the door by ten. Every other mother is mainlining coffee, and if I abstain, then my kids will be the last in the car, the last to pull up at school, and the last to get into class. And I just can't risk it. It's about a perfect school attendance record.

Later, in the morning, it's time for work. Now, I know it's theoretically possible to write blog posts and columns and books without the use of stimulants. But I could not compete in the cut throat world of Mummy Blogging and professional writing without that extra edge that two or three cups of tea gives me. The hit of caffeine and sugar allow me to write at a super fast pace, my fingers flying over the keyboard, hundreds of words at a time. It's part of my routine. I just need to keep on top of the game.

Mid afternoon, and I need another injection of PEDs. This time, I need energy to drive to school at a competitive pace, and score one of the rare and valuable parking spots in the overcrowded streets. Without my afternoon hit of sugar straight into the bloodstream (think biscuits, muffins, cakes or scones), I would be circling the block pitifully for an hour as my kids wait forlornly on the corner. If I want to get in to school and get out again before nightfall, I have no choice but to use.

Evening falls, and it is the end of another frantic day. But I am stressed from my life as a Busy Working Mum, and need a little something to help me unwind. It is time for more PEDs; wine, this time - red, white or sparkling - and a nice piece of chocolate. I relax, sleep soundly, regain some much needed strength, and awake ready to face the next challenging day.

When the whole vicious cycle begins again.

*Well, most of the world, actually. But that's beside the point.

He Has Rules. Why Can't I?

Today I read a fascinating article about Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Michael Jeffries, and the rules his staff must follow. They are, for example, required to wear A&F boxer shorts (just the men, I expect; it would create a visible panty line for the ladies) and use the words 'No problem' when taking orders.

Well, I feel I have come far enough in my career as a Busy Working Mum to subject my own staff to bizarre and pointless rules. Unfortunately, I don't have any staff, except for Gab the Wonder Babysitter, who actually bosses me around.

But this will not deter me, because I will surely have staff one day, and it is better to sort these things out early.

So here they are: my Ten Rules for Dealing With Kerri Sackville, CEO of Nothing In Particular.

1. When greeting me, the salutation "Hi Kerri, have you had a facelift? You look amazing!" should be used. This may occasionally be alternated with "Wow, have you lost weight?" or "You are positively glowing today!"
2. On parting, the words "Thank you for being you," should be used. Just because.
3. There must be a constant supply of Nutella handy at all times.
4. There is to be no white chocolate in my presence at any time. White chocolate is not real chocolate, and it's very existence as a form of confectionery offends me.
5. Children should be presented to me only when clean, fed, in a cheery disposition, and having had completed their homework.
6. All iPhones should be switched onto silent or set to an acceptable ring tone: In Da Club by 50 Cent, Night Fever by the Bee Gees, or Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths. Obviously.
7. A bed must be available to me between 1pm and 3pm every afternoon, wherever I am. There will be absolute silence at this time and I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Unless Simon Baker calls, in which case put him right through. 
8. All calls from The Architect are to be vetted. If he is calling to tell me he will be late home, or to discuss finances, or to arrange a dinner with other architects, he is to be told I am unavailable. If he is calling with messages of love, or to disclose a recent financial windfall, he may be put through.
9. I require five minutes of shoulder massage per hour of working, plus one hour of full body massage from six till seven pm whilst the staff prepare dinner.
10. I am Off Duty from 10pm at night. All enquiries after this time are to be directed to The Architect. Oh, and Architect, this applies to you too. If you haven't submitted all of your 'enquiries' to me by this time, they can wait until tomorrow. 

Thank you for your co-operation in this matter.

Kerri