Memoirs of a Slacker Mum

Happy Birthday Harry! My big boy turns 8 today.  We were lying is bed this morning having a cuddle,  well I was cuddling him when I said “Hey dude!  Give up a cuddle!  I was the one who made you.”  Harry confessed to feeling about 15.
We were lying there chatting about his birthday when he asked where the cake was that he was going to take to school.  A cold shiver ran over me as I had a flashback. To exactly 12 months ago to the day. When I wrote this post.
Will I ever learn?

At our school when it is a kids birthday, mums are encouraged to bring in cupcakes. This is instead of a big cake as it is less messy and more convenient for the teacher to distribute.

I get this. But I also think it causes a few issues. Well maybe just for me.

Before the bell rings, you can see smug looking groomed mums, quite often with a toddler and a small white dog, standing in their Country Road Beige pants carrying something that looks like this.


I can only assume that the Sunday before was spent sifting and baking and each organic cupcake lovingly hand iced with appropriate garnishes. Not lying on the couch in their undies complaining about the heat and avoiding a bit of sex nagging.

Other type of cupcake holders you may find in our playground include;

( I think this chick may have been better off washing her hair and burning that top rather than baking fricking cupcakes, don’t you think? )




My hat totally comes off to those cashed up working mums who simply have a box delivered to the school from some fancy schmancy assed bakery. Smart.

So this morning, Harry inquired as to the whereabouts of his cupcakes. He needed 22 by recess. I had a total panic on the inside and insisted the cupcakes shall come forth at the right time. Not to worry. I was onto it.

I spent some time travelling to bakeries, but they either did not have enough or they cost $4.50 each and I was would rather spend that $99 on a case of wine to help Harry celebrate his birthday this evening.

$4.50!!!. I may be liable for slander, so I will not reveal the rip off establishment’s name. Let’s just say it rhymes with Patterson’s Patisserie.

So as the time drew closer to 11am, I drove to the school, whacked a red lobster on the canteen counter and announced that Harry’s class could all be treated to a Chocolate Paddle Pop.
Remember when cupcakes meant farting into your hand and waving it into the kids face who was sitting next to you on the school bus?

So please indulge me with a tale from your own slacker mum experience so I can can be safe in the knowledge that I am not the only one out there.

PS I was not always a slacker mum. Click over to The Hoolpa and discover what I used to be like.