And the role of mother will be played by ME.

Does anyone else ever feel like they are just pretending to be a mother? Like how did you get here and what are these words coming out of your mouth? Sometimes I really feel like I am playing the part in some mothering sitcom (with the requisite somewhat irritating child with a lisp and the small baby played by twins. Only not played by twins in our house – played by just the one baby thank god. Not that I don’t like twins. It’s one of those concepts that is so nice in theory and the matching outfits divine, but the reality seems like some bad horror movie – IMAGINE two year old tantrums in tandem, I think I would retire to the Galapagos, Or someplace equally far away with a beach and no twins. Sorry to those who have twins. I love twins. Twins rock. Twin rant over).

I woke up on my 30-something birthday this year and lay there marvelling about the fact that I have a husband and two children. A full on family. I know I have already expressed my shock, but I am still wondering – WHEN did that happen?

Today I looked at these two little people sitting in matching high chairs and watched myself shoveling gently maneuvering pear puree into the baby while carrying on a conversation about yellow diggers and just wondered – who ARE you people? And when did I start a mini Chinese hawkers market in my kitchen, bartering over tomato? And for that matter, when did I become such a crap negotiator – in whose world is one piece of tomato any way equal to a bowl of yoghurt?

Yes, I can talk at length on which car is the fastest out of a Peugeot, a Porsche and a Volkswagen (if you don’t know the answer to that, you have failed Mothering Small Boy 101), I can summon up witty discourse about what noises an ambulance makes versus a small police car. Can I point out that I HAVE NO INTEREST IN CARS OR EMERGENCY VEHICLES IN GENERAL. I can even talk about poo for a good while with other people (yes, I can banter a la Jacqui’s story yesterday) until I stop and gasp at myself in horror.

But it is with discipline (and I use the word loosely) where I have decided that I am most definitely just playing the part of the Mum. “If you do that one more time, I will …..(insert ridiculous threat that is never going to happen).”, “Look at me. LOOK AT MUMMY. Do you understand?”, “Do you need to go and sit on the naughty step? Right, that’s IT, you are sitting on the naughty step.” I mean, is this some sort of joke?

I’m not sure I am cut out for this parenting lark – I’m just pretending to be a mother, my REAL life will be kicking back in any day now I’m sure, won’t it? Am I really appearing in a bad half hour of the Supernanny? And when is the ad break? I’m TIRED.

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