Super-Mummy-spook

Hermaphrodite Mum
Three kids and a single mum

I'm just off to analyse some intelligence and plan a few operations in the field. What? You haven't heard about my new job as an intelligence officer for MI6? Super-Mummy-spook? That's where it's at these days. Our Secret Intelligence Service is recruiting mummies. And about time too, I say! If you want a job done properly, ask a mother. Who else has a sense of perfectionism, bordering on O.C.D., as well as the ability to juggle several different lives? I am just glad that HM's Government has finally seen the light.

Shh! Don't look now: Mummy's undercover!

In case you think I am pulling your leg, look no further than Mumsnet's Jobs round-robin email last week. Second down on the list after an advert for Advance Production Operators at the biscuit company, McVities, there was a post seeking full-time MI6 Intelligence Officers. At last, I thought, a proper job for the working mother - assignments overseas protecting national interests. That fits around the school run and Christmas concerts, right? 

A pox on failure!

It has become fashionable to extol the virtues of failure. Our children need to flounder; they need to experience the blood-rushing slam of disappointment! In some ways, it is a bit like trying to catch chicken pox. No one wants the inconvenience or the pimples, but it is a rite of passage. For how else can our kids build up emotional resilience? The old public school system would have filed it under 'character-building', along with draughty dormitories and short trousers in winter. I even catch myself saying to other mothers: "Failure is good for them, you know." But who am I trying to kid? 

Does failure lead to success?
© Pixelrobot | Dreamstime.com

As the next round of common entrance exams come around, many parents face a dilemma: whether to push their children to aim high (investing time, effort and pride) at the risk of watching them fail to secure a place at their favoured school. The poet Lemn Sissay has a saying: "Reach for the top of the tree and you may get to the first branch but reach for the stars and you'll get to the top of the tree." But what about those of us who aim high but still end up in the lower branches?

Teenage fuel

My 11-year old daughter was bemoaning the fact that she was too tall the other day. Having just started secondary school, she was embarrassed that she was towering above many of the older girls. In an attempt to comfort her, I started to tell her that our culture prized superlatively tall women in the form of supermodels... then I stopped. Where was I heading with this? Was I encouraging her to aspire to being bony and underfed? Heaven forbid!

Having fun with food...
© Roman Sluka | Dreamstime.com

As mothers, we are advised not to comment on our own weight or even focus too much on the way our daughters look. Our girls and boys are growing up in a society where the pressure to look attractive/desirable is almost overwhelming. According to a recent government survey, two-thirds of British teenage girls consider themselves too fat. No wonder then that admissions to UK hospitals for teenagers with eating disorders have almost doubled in the past three years. To add to the complexity of the problem, obesity in children is also on the rise.