Myth of the supermum

1/2
Fiona Neill10 April 2012

My fledgling attempt at being a superwoman like Kate Reddy, the heroine of the book and now film I Don't Know How She Does It, began and ended the day I was due back at work six months after the birth of my first child, when the nanny I had employed failed to turn up.

She later wrote to explain that her grandfather had been run over and the family dog had died. The truth, I subsequently found out, was more prosaic: she had found a better-paying job with another family. I had been gazumped.

At the time this was monumentally stressful. I cobbled together a patchwork of childcare involving my mother-in-law and a local nursery and couldn't go back to work for another month. Any illusion that this might be the moment where I released my inner Nicola Horlick was shattered.

In retrospect, this nanny did me a big favour. My boss (a working mother with three children) gave me an extra month of maternity leave; I negotiated a four-day week; and my mother-in-law looked after not only our first child but also the two that followed - and, 13 years later, has a close relationship with each.

I now appreciate I was fortunate to be released from the pressure to be perfect early on. I accepted I couldn't have it all and that I most certainly couldn't do it all. I rejected the tyranny of the yoghurt-knitting brigade and let my mother-in-law make birthday cakes. I employed a cleaner who turned out to be a great cook and became the mainstay of my childcare as a work-at- home mother. I learned to compromise.

Most mothers would agree that perfectionism and parenting are not obvious bedfellows, unless of course you are blessed with a large staff or cursed with a neurotic nature. Children resist micromanagement and unrealistic targets suck much of the joy out of the process by raising the bar so high that most of us are doomed to failure.

Yet over the past 15 years we have lived through an extraordinary period of child-centric parenting where anything from breast-feeding to cupcake baking has seemed like a competitive sport. Guilt has become the bindweed of modern motherhood as we have all been caught up in what French feminist philosopher Elizabeth Badinter has dubbed the "cult of motherhood fundamentalism". Working mothers are meant to be domestically and professionally flawless. And look good.

But a cultural shift might be under way. In recent interviews, celebrity working mothers have baulked at the superwoman idea, pointing out they are absolutely not doing it all but in fact paying other people to do it for them. TV presenter Kirstie Allsopp revealed earlier this year that she employs a full-time nanny, housekeeper and PA.

Anna Friel has two nannies. Even the queen of macrobiotic parenting, Gwyneth Paltrow, has placed an ad for a nanny who can help with homework and cook.

Caitlin Moran's best-selling book, How To Be a Woman, has tapped into a mood for a new honesty about the whole post-millennial mothering project.

TV series such as Outnumbered have revelled in the muddling and befuddling that goes on in most working households. A new realism might be creeping back in and it will be good for us all.

Recent research by the University of Washington revealed that stay-at-home mothers and hyper-perfectionist working mothers are more likely to suffer from depression than working mothers who accept that they can't do it all. According to this study, happiness comes from accepting that you are not superhuman and making domestic and professional trade-offs. Buying into the supermum myth can be bad for you.

It could also be bad for your children. In a recent issue of the Atlantic magazine, psychoanalyst Lori Gottlieb describes a new generation of young patients appearing in her clinic suffering from depression and anxiety. In a piece entitled "How to land your kids in therapy," she says an obsession with making everything right for our children might actually turn them into unhappy adults. She describes how "over-attuned" parents who mollycoddle their children have brought them up without a framework to deal with obstacles later in life, and little pleasure in their achievements. She argues that children need to be exposed to setbacks early to have psychological immunity later.

So if, like me, you have on the odd occasion forgotten to pick up your child from school or arrived in the middle of a nativity play as the three-year-old donkey is leaving the stage, then ditch the guilt and consider that you might be doing your children a favour.

Perfection isn't a great legacy for daughters nor a great example for sons. I'd hate my daughter to grow up feeling a burden to be superwoman or bring up a son with unreasonable expectations of his future partner. As the British paediatrician Donald Winnicott said more than half a century ago, the best parent is the good enough parent.

And good enough solutions often end up being better than perfect ones. Muddling and juggling might be our salvation, and if we don't sweat the small stuff then our children won't either.

What the Nanny Saw by Fiona Neill is published by Michael Joseph at £7.99.

TOP TIPS

Ignore the tyranny of the cupcake bakers and either buy in or teach your children to make them.

Ditch all parenting manuals apart from the Dorling Kindersley Complete Family health guide. Friends with older children almost always have the best advice.

Laugh about cock-ups with fellow travellers rather than feeling guilty about them.

Accept that the early stages of motherhood are like having a mild dose of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and you will come out of it.

Don't read anything that says working mothers harm their children.

Keep on the right side of your mother and in-laws.

Granny's nannies is one of the best childcare solutions.

Pay all bills by direct debit to avoid sudden losses of essential services.

Train children from an early age that absolute silence during a work call will be rewarded later.

Keep a basket by the front door for shoes.

Recognise which mothers on the school run won't mind you phoning at 10 o'clock at night for a costume for World Book Day and return favours whenever you can.

Avoid mumdamentalists or anyone who makes you feel guilty.

Always make time to have a laugh with your friends.

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in