After I had my first daughter, I was DESPERATE for motherhood fiction, stories about birth, pregnancy, pelvic floor incidents … the whole deal. I devoured I Don’t Know How She Does It, but I couldn’t find any other funny, realistic motherhood fiction.
So I decided to write a new romantic comedy series, based on babies and motherhood. And do you know what? It was easier than I thought. I have so many mum friends with funny stories that the book sort of wrote itself. Mums are funny. In a good way.
Since then, I should note that the Unmumsy Mum blogger has written an EXCELLENT, hilariously funny book (called the Unmumsy Mum, funnily enough). Go read it. It’s great. But in the mean time, here’s an extract from my new motherhood fiction series called the Bad Mother’s Diary.
It’s about a new mum who’s just had a baby with a shitbag boyfriend and then … well I won’t spoil it for you.
Bad Mother’s Diary extract
Friday January 1st
New Year’s Day
Back at Mum and Dad’s after HUGE row with Nick. Am FURIOUS. Asked him to look after Daisy while I went to the supermarket (when I take her along, I get distracted by the 2-for-1s and buy random things, like jam-filled wagon wheels). Got home to find Nick playing computer games, with TEN empty bottles of original Guinness beside him. TEN BOTTLES! In TWO hours! I went mental. ‘I’ve got a high tolerance for alcohol,’ he slurred. ‘If I were drunk, I’d never have cracked this part of Assassin’s Creed.’ I demanded he walk in a straight line, and he fell over. As I was screaming at him, Nick’s mum let herself into the apartment. She saw Nick on the floor and said, ‘Do sit up straight, darling.’ Then she asked what all the fuss was about. I said Nick was getting pissed when he was supposed to be looking after Daisy. ‘Oh Nick,’ said Helen. ‘But Juliette, he has been working all day. He’s obviously stressed.’ Working! All Nick’s done today is read a two-page script for an online poker commercial. ‘If I ever need relationship advice from a divorcee,’ I told Helen, ‘I’ll let you know.’ Then I screamed at Nick at bit more, threw a bag together and said I was taking Daisy to my parent’s house. I would have made a strong, dignified woman exit, except I had to come back for Daisy’s pink waffle blanket, Teddy Snuggles, blackout curtain with suckers, spare nappies and finally her Lullaby Light Bear.
Saturday January 2nd
Nick just phoned begging for forgiveness. ‘I need you, Julesy, I need my little girl. I’m lost without you.’ But I’m not going to start feeling sorry for him. He needs to shape up. It’s bad enough all these hangovers. But to be pissed when he’s actually looking after her … Weighed myself this morning on Mum and Dad’s 1970s scales, because they’re usually kinder than our modern ones. I am TWO STONE heavier than before I was pregnant. And that is standing completely naked on the scales after I’ve been to the toilet. Blaaaaaah.
Sunday January 3rd
The trouble with motherhood these days is you’re expected to:
Be slim(ish), well-groomed and fashionably dressed, with a brightly coloured designer baby bag covered in little forest animals.
Have a perfect IKEA home with quirky little child-friendly details, like a colourful chalkboard stuck on the fridge and designer robot toys.
Be an all-natural, organic earth mother and not use any nasty plastic Tupperware with chemicals in it, only buy organic vegetables, breastfeed, have a drug-free birth, etc. BUT at the same time …
Be a super-clean chemical spray freak with hygienic clean surfaces and floors at all times, plus wash your hands ten times a day.
All this AND get out of the house without mysterious white stains all over you. How do women do it? Nick’s been calling and texting all day. Promising he’ll never drink again. Begging to see pictures of Daisy. It’s a start I suppose.
Love Suzy K Quinn xxx
Suzy K Quinn is the author of new motherhood fiction, the Bad Mother’s Diary.
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