Mums Just Wanna Have Fun. Lucie Wheeler

which pretty much summed her up as a parent – useless.

      ‘It wasn’t your fault – she shouldn’t have taken Jack’s headphones.’

      ‘Yeah, but how was she supposed to know? How is anyone supposed to know? It’s so fucking hard, Hari.’

      ‘I know it is, but you can’t beat yourself up about it. This is going to happen, you just need to learn ways to get past it and help Jack to get past it, that’s all.’ She sipped at her own sangria.

      ‘But what if he doesn’t, Hari? What if he never improves and I spend my whole life one step behind him apologising for what he does and the chaos he creates when people do things he doesn’t like. I can’t constantly be there for him.’

      ‘You won’t have to be—’

      ‘How do you know? Does your child have bloody autism?’ Harriet froze at Nancy’s sudden outburst. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.’ Nancy exhaled and put her head in her hands. ‘I’m just fed up with getting it wrong – I don’t know what I’m doing, why is this so hard!’

      ‘You’re doing great! You’re doing a hell of a lot better than I would. Jeez, Nance, I can’t even look after my own children without getting it wrong and they’re a piece of cake in comparison.’ She held up her hand in apology. ‘Not saying Jack is difficult … I just meant—’

      ‘It’s fine,’ Nancy smiled. ‘I know what you mean.’ They sat there quietly for a minute before Nancy added, ‘And you’re doing a fine job with your children, stop putting yourself down.’

      ‘I don’t know, Nance, I know it’s nothing in comparison to what you have to deal with daily but I feel like I’m wading against the tide all the time. The children expect so much from me and I don’t have a clue. Put me in a boardroom with seventeen directors from multimillion-pound companies from around the world and I’m a pro, stick me in a play centre with my two children and it’s like they speak a different language to me!’ Hari laughed to lighten the comment. Whilst she was trying to make Nancy feel better about what had happened, there was more truth in what she was saying than she liked to admit.

      ‘You’re too hard on yourself.’

      ‘Nancy, the other week the nursery had to call me because I was over an hour late to pick up Tommy. I was too busy replying to emails. And then I did it again the day before we left.’ She lifted an eyebrow. ‘My own child, Nance, and I forgot!’

      ‘You’re under a lot of pressure with your job and everyone drops the ball every now and then, that’s just parenting. It’s shit.’ She clinked her glass with Harriet’s. ‘Welcome to the Shit Mums’ Club.’

      ‘Welcome? Are you kidding? I think I qualify for the presidency role at that club!’

      ‘Oh shush!’ Nancy waved the comment away. ‘It does make me think, though, Hari.’

      ‘What’s that then? Share your pearls of wisdom with me, oh wise one.’

      ‘Well, we can’t be the only parents in the world feeling like this. Maybe this is just what parenting is: a rollercoaster of emotions ranging from the very high to the very low on a daily basis with the constant need to self-criticise every single action you take – or don’t take.’

      Harriet nodded. ‘Sounds pretty accurate to me.’ She sipped her drink again.

      ‘I just wish more people spoke about it and owned up to struggling instead of putting on a filter and pretending. It makes it so much harder for those of us who are genuinely pulling our hair out because we feel like the only ones. But, we can’t be.’

      ‘Well, I am totally on your side, Mrs, I certainly can’t say I’m acing parenthood. Screaming, crying, tantrums, poo on the floor, broccoli in the DVD player… it all happens at my house.’ Harriet’s confidence began to wane as she listed all the things her children did, the more she spoke, the more vulnerable she felt. Maybe the sangria had loosened her tongue a little too much. But Nancy was her friend, so if she couldn’t talk openly with her, then who could she talk to?

      ‘See, this is why mums need to stick together, this is why we should talk about these things because once you realise that every single parent is feeling this shit, it doesn’t feel so bad!’ Nancy slapped her knee as though she had had a revelation.

      ‘Another one for the road?’ Harriet asked, not waiting for an answer and making her way over to the bar. Laughter aside, Nancy had a point. Surely they couldn’t be the only parents out there struggling in some way? So why did she feel so alone?

      ***

      Nancy watched Harriet leave and moved her attention to Jack who was sitting with his feet dangling in the pool, headphones firmly back on. It broke her heart to see him so isolated from everyone else. All she wanted was – dare she say it – a normal child. Whatever that was. She loved him with all her heart but being his mum was so incredibly difficult, she wasn’t sure she was cut out for it. When Pete had left her, it had broken her heart, but if she was completely honest, she’d been a little jealous of him too. Jealous that he had escaped the daily turmoil of meltdowns and the unknown. It wasn’t just the physical stresses of it all that she was finding difficult, it was the emotional side too. Parenting was hard, regardless of whether you had one child or ten, hyperactive or shy, disabled or not. The actual act of parenting itself was gruelling both physically and mentally and she really missed having another person to bounce off when times were tough. She was jealous of the fact that Pete didn’t have to watch his son when he was feeling sad or frightened and as a result, endure hours of horrendous guilt and shame that you couldn’t make it better. Pete didn’t have to deal with numerous wakings in the night and he didn’t have to go through the turmoil when you forgot to take Jack’s Calm Cards out. She couldn’t ever imagine being without Jack but equally she longed to share the worry with someone who understood.

      She glanced down at her leg where a bruise was beginning to form where she had tried to restrain Jack earlier. The way the staff member had looked at Nancy, like her son was a monster, made her feel devastated. She was failing as a parent right now and it felt horrendous.

      She was snapped out of her thoughts rapidly when she saw a young boy approach Jack from behind, pause and then sit down next to him, dangling his feet into the pool just like Jack. Nancy froze with an overwhelming fear that the little boy would touch Jack’s headphones. She moved to stand up to warn the child but then paused as she watched Jack take off his own headphones and look at the young boy. She sat back in her chair, anxiously waiting to see what happened next. Time stood still as she watched the two of them staring at each other, not moving. Jack had never done this before. He didn’t usually take his headphones off to interact with another person – it was only when Nancy asked him to or when he was ready. Nancy wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She wanted to be happy – this was progress, surely? But a small part of her brain was nervously asking questions like why? and what will he do? She wanted to intervene, to make sure this encounter went smoothly and positively, but she knew in her heart that he was never going to make the progress he needed to socially if she was always one step behind doing it for him. She waited patiently, her breathing shallow and fast.

      Then the little boy with the mousy brown hair said, ‘Whatcha watching?’

      Jack didn’t respond, and Nancy could see him clasping the iPad tight against his chest, his knuckles their usual shade of white. Nancy’s heart was racing, willing him to reply to the boy who was staring at him, waiting for an answer, the sweetest little smile on his face.. She fixed her eyes on her son, praying for him to say something – anything – but still he stared back, unwavering.

      ‘Is it YouTube? I like that; I watch stuff on it all the time – what’s your favourite?’

      Still nothing. Oh God, this was torture. That poor little boy wanted to make friends and have a chat and Jack was just sitting there, frozen.

      Then, Jack stood up and walked back to Nancy, leaving the boy sitting in the pool by himself, watching as his