Just what is Bad Mummy Syndrome anyway?

Every now and then I google Bad Mummy Syndrome just to see what turns up, and the other day I found this. I recommend you go there before continuing, it's refreshingly short (and the other stuff on the site looks like it might be worth a tickle with the eyes). They're quite unsympathetic to us Mummies who suffer from Bad Mummy Syndrome so I wrote this for them:

Hi, I'm such a fan of Bad Mummy Syndrome that I named my blog (paltry, don't bother going) after it.

You guys seem so hard on us that I felt I had to respond.

I argue that Bad Mummy Syndrome is not about perfect mummies pretending to compete to be the worst mummy of all, the Bad Mummy Syndrome is a dialect. It's CODE. It's a code we use to tell other Mummies (or Daddies) that most of the plethora of rules and systems we are bombarded with these days from books, media, and well-meaning interfererers are at best, designed to make us feel inadequate, and at worst, shite to the point of dangerous.

Examples:

"My daughter is still in nappies and she's four! I'm hopeless at this toilet training thing!" is code for, "My mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmother and every other fucking busybody who would tell me how to rear my children is giving me a hard time about this. I know my daughter and I know she's unlikely to be psychologically scarred, but hey, mark me Bad Mummy for not fitting in."

Bad Mummies of my generation would probably roll their eyes in sympathy at this, generation Y might give a sympathetic "Meh." But after the eye rolling and sympathy noises comes the really, really important bit. The listening Bad Mummy (Bad Mummy Two) must now appropriately denigrate herself. Why? Because if she doesn't, Bad Mummy One really IS a bad mother. If she doesn't, Bad Mummy One is all alone.

So, Bad Mummy Two might say, "Mine slept with us until he was five, we just couldn't convince him that a separate bed was the way to go!" This is code for, "I tried, I tried everything, but in the end the nightly screams and tantrums wore me down, I figured that he must, for some reason only known to him, need me at night and I opted for a quite life with sleep in it. Half the world is telling me that co-sleeping for that long will cause deep Freudian traumas that only emerge in his teens. But I know he's a happy kid who got what he needed. Sue me for Bad Mumminess why don't you."

Other translations might include:

"I caught my two year old drinking liquid soap today." Is code for, "I'm so fucking tired, and she's so fucking precocious that NOTHING is safe in the house any more. They say you have to watch them every second but how is that really truly possible if you have to look after everyone else as well?"

"I locked my three year old in her cot for half an hour yesterday. When I got back she'd thrown all the toys I'd given her onto the floor and had nearly broken the gate she was shaking it so hard!" Is code for, "I had to separate us or I was going to physically hurt her. She has screaming rages over such tiny things and it goes on all day, drilling into my skull, I think I'm going insane. If I don't get a decent break from her soon I will simply go catatonic."

I could go on and on. But I'm thinking I'd be pressing my luck.

Bad Mummy Dialogues are not about "competing to be the worst Mummy", they are not about being unable to admit to our own perfection, they are about reassuring each other that these things are normal. That it's normal to have problems, that it's normal to feel like strangling your kids (they can be unbelievably frustrating, even the little angels!), and it's normal to feel completely inadequate and at sea.

The reason this reassuring dialogue is couched in terms of imperfection, the reason that it takes the form of a public flogging is that we are bombarded from every angle with the possibility of perfect parenthood. Advertisements flaunt unattainable visions of perfect families in much the same way they flaunt unattainable physiques. Books and seminars offer miracle solutions and cures to all that ails your potentially perfect offspring (and if they're imperfect it's your fault by god, get your act together woman!) It seems there isn't a parenting problem under the sun that doesn't have a book on it or a product out that promises miracles.

With all this advice and help out there, where are the excuses for shoddy parenting in any form? We speak in terms of the Bad Mummy because we know this, we know that in the public eye there are no excuses. We are ashamed, guilty of not attaining an ideal that is as impossible for most parents as a Kate Moss figure.

So next time you overhear us "competing", please, try cracking the code before you come over all judgmental. It's fear of harsh judgment that gave us Bad Mummy Syndrome in the first place.