On Being Mumsy


I was granted parole for half a day last Saturday. I managed to slip into the city to see the Ab Fab movie with three girlfriends at Gold Class as you do daahling.  The occasion was met with the consumption of four glasses of wine plus a three tiered platter of fancy arsed cakes. Needless to say it was freakin’ awesome.

The movie wasn’t bad either. It was touchingly resonate in places. For instance I was  moved by a scene where Saffy  performs Janis Ians’ At Seventeen’ before a gaggle of drag queens. Then there was a climatic bit where Eddie says to Saffy ‘I did not want to be fat and old but here we are daaahling.’ That burned because I’m 46 and in the worst shape of my life. Here we are daaahling indeed.


I use a bit of this in my life…

What the movie really brought home is that there is simply not enough unbridled hedonism in my middle class life. Unlike Edie and Pats, I can’t indulge in a coke and champagne  soaked idyll on the Cote d’ Azur . It’s not an option.

By contrast here is how a debauched Saturday evening plays out at Chez Abulous. I swill two glasses of red whilst Dadabs goes all Manu on my ass and whips up something shamefully gourmet. I may or may not do a happy dance to express my gratitude towards Dadabs cooking.

We put the kids to bed then I assume the position –  on the couch under a doona in front of the telly. He assumes his position upstairs in front of the computer. There I get to imbibe historical hunks becoming estranged from their historical blouses in blissful uninterrupted peace. Though sometimes I waste the opportunity and just watch Parks and Rec.

Ron med

Many a wild Saturday night has been spent with Ron Swanson

So how did it come to this? My mission to become a world class cougar is failing.

Patsy med

Patsytown is a stop over on the way to

At this rate I will never morph into this type of awesomeness.

Olenna med

the ultimate cougar awesomeness.

What happened? Kids happened.  I’m a Mum and I am Mumsy.

Here is how the realization struck me.

I was faffing about wasting time on Facebook when I scrolled past a discussion about the Canadian PM and uber crumpet Justin Trudeau.

Justin med

Comfortable enough in his masculinity to wear a wet pink shirt and carry a pride flag. ZOMG!!!!

Being me I could not leave well alone and added to the fawning comments – ‘PM of Canada, Mayor of Hunkytown and CEO of Crumpets Inc’.

I scored a few thumbs ups for my efforts and one reply ‘Ha ha. You’re a Mom right? ‘Cause that this a real Mom joke. I love it.’

Here’s me thinking it was an example of bawdy wit! Sheesh.

Then my nine year old called me out about the baggy jeans I was wearing. ‘Why are you wearing those weird jeans.’

‘Because they are comfortable.’

‘They are Mum jeans’

Now I thought my loose denim gave the ensemble something of a waif feel ala Dexy’s Midnight Runners. My nine year old whose taste runs to Ariana Grande disagreed.

Dexy's med

How I think I look in baggy jeans. Btw: Tooray freaking aye..

‘Am I embarrassing you?’

‘A bit’

And so it begins. I make Mum jokes and wear Mum jeans. I suppose I have Mum hair too.

Mum jeans med

How my daughter thinks I look in baggy jeans.

That is nothing compared to the shade I regularly get from my six year old who insults my physical appearance on a daily basis. Recently she told me that my ‘belly button better watch out because my boobies were coming for it’. Which pretty creative for a Grade One student. My (Size 10) derriere is frequently compared to that of Kim Kardashian. At this rate I may as well pack up and move in with Kanye who would no doubt appreciate me.

Kanye West

I’m sure he would not find mah booty too big.

Another feature of my Mumsiness is my inability to distinguish popular female singers on the radio. They all sound like Rhianna to me.


‘Who sings this Mum?’. ‘I dont know is it Rhianna? They all sound like Rhianna.’

Also I’ve failed to grasp the appeal of the You Tubers and plushies.

Help me get back on the road to Cougar Town! How can I rid myself of the Mumsiness and embrace my inner fab?

Are you Mumsy? Are you OK with it?




20 thoughts on “On Being Mumsy

  1. I am also in the Mumsy Club. I was told to ‘Stop singing Mama you’re ruining it [the song]’ THIS from kids who still eat their own snot and sing along to the Doc McStuffins song. WTF??? I once drank from the swanky cup of life. Now I drink from the Maxwell&Williams Mothers’ Day cup of mumsylyfe. (I’m ranting- you’ve hit a nerve!!!)

  2. I bypassed Mumsy and went straight for Gransy. Why wait? And you’re right about Patrick Dempsey. No rival for Colin whatsoever.

  3. Not Mumsy to

  4. Sorry hit send too soon. I didn’t think I was Mumsy until tonight when I was told,in the car, by my 13 yr old son that my siblings are way cooler than me. He then asked me what went wrong. He then got out of the car and walked home! Ahhh the power I have.

  5. OMG OMG OMG Ron Swanson is the hottest piece of crumpet EVER and it just went uncommented upon in your blog. Your losing your touch Mumabs, RON IS CRUMPET.

    • Oh and I just went and bought a pair of Doc Marten boots because I am clearly in the middle of some kind of mid-life crisis. I’M NOT MUMSY. I WEAR EDGY FOOTWEAR.

      • I was having a conversation with a mid-twenties lass on the weekend at a hen’s night (music too loud, everything too penisy, you know) and I said something about living in an uber-conservative part of town and she said, (OMG, I can hardly type it), “what, more conservative than you?”

        I can’t get over it. I’m considering getting a face tatt.

      • I bought a funky skirt with comic book art all over it recently. It’s my one statement piece in a wardrobe otherwise dominated by Target. Felt good!

    • In a game of shag, shoot, marry – I would choose to marry Ron Swanson. I shall include Ron in future posts for your viewing pleasure Hugzilla – I give you Ramsay now I will give you Ron. Its what I do.

  6. I read a fab piece by Kaz Cooke once about reclaiming the word ‘mumsy’ (can’t find it now, or I’d share!). I hate the fact that motherhood has to be associated with dowdiness – and yet, here I sit, in my comfy ensemble from the House of Tarjay (without a line of coke in sight)! Living the stereotype! My kids are pretty quick to point out my jiggly bits, too, but then it’s all at eye line for them, the poor buggers. Maybe you can skip cougar and go straight to dirty old lady?

  7. I’m guilty as charged! I choose comfort over style 99% of the time,!

  8. I’m unashamedly mumsy. I always promised myself I would always be up with current music and never listen to AM but I broke that promise quite a few years back! I’m actually embracing the freedom that comes with low expectations – I’m not expected to be fashionable or up with current trends now and there is a strange freedom in that!

  9. Here’s the thing. It’s not mumsy. It’s old. There is no cool mums (and those that think they are are deluded) and no mtter how down you are with youth culture, you’re wrong and weird. I think it was Mark Ruffalo (but it may be some other actor playing a superhero) and they said “So do your kids think you’re cool now your Hulk?’ and he said “No, they think I’m embarrassing and I’ve ruined it.” And that is a good parent for you right there. We were at a Kanye concert and the guy next to my young teen said “You’ve got a cool mum!” and my kid was so horrified that it looked like he was going to throw up. The guy then got embarrassed and said to me as way of apology “I think you’re cool” but what he may as well have said is “Good for you for being so out of place and not caring, old, old lady”…so own it. Own it all, I say, because you’ll just look even sadder if you try to be ‘cool’

  10. I would love to say there is nothing wrong with being mumsy… but I would burst blood vessels if someone called me that. I know there are some things in my life that are headed right down mumsy alley.

  11. My 3.5 year old daughter still thinks I’m a good dancer so I’ll be enjoying that as long as I can! In real life, I went out on Saturday night (what?) into town (whatt???) in heels (WHAAAT?) and danced to three of my jams (Push It, Whoomp Dere It Is and Baby’s Got Back if you’re interested) and I am still paying for it today. Totally worth it.

  12. LOL! If you’re no longer a cougar, what the hell does that make me??? Haha! I was listening to one of those hip and cool FM radio stations the other day and my ears hurt as soon as Rhianna came on. Well, I thought it was her. Straight to 702, baby!

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