The Teaching Mum

A light-hearted look at parenting through the eyes of a very busy English Teacher.

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An Ode to the Parent & Child Parking Space

An ode to the Parent Child Parking Space. 🚗

I’ll admit, once it wasn’t important to me,

Not when driving round Gran, who aged 93, 👵

Insisted on going to Morrisons to do her big shop,

Into the car she would climb and I would hop,

Off we would go to her favourite place,

And I would park in a parent/child space.

I know, I know, it’s totally shocking,

I’m one of those trolls you should be blocking,

But allow me to try to explain my madness,

You might feel empathy or even sadness,

Gran was frail, weak and rickety,

Stubborn, forthright and a little pernickety,

Walking far was not her forte,

Because at 4ft 10 she was a little shorty,

We searched high and low for a parking spot up close,

A blue badge holder? We were not one of those,

So without looking anyone straight in the face,

I pulled up into a parent child space. 😱

Now I’m am a Mum, I have to apologise for this huge error, 🙋‍♀️

Because plucking children neatly from my car fills me with anxiety and terror, 👩‍👧‍👦

What if they slam into another car door?

Scratch some new paintwork and I’m hauled in by the law? 👮‍♀️

So imagine my anger, imagine my surprise,

When a huge Mercedes parked up by my side,

I glanced over to greet a kindred spirit – another stressed mum, 💆‍♀️

What glanced back was a guy struggling to see over his rather rotund tum,

The back seat was empty – in fact it was pristine,

That leather upholstery, a child’s hand it had never seen, 🍫 🍭

Despicable, disgusting a down right disgrace,

This man had pulled into a parent/child space,

Out he climbed and the Merc gave a sigh of relief,

So we decided to the chase the space-stealing thief,

Confidenly, he strode straight into the shop,

While we followed shouting: “Hey! How many kids have you got?”

Our shrieks and demands he chose to ignore,

While he perused the shelves of the grocery store, 🍅 🥓🍞

“Right that’s it,” I said. “We’ll give it all we’ve got”,

Later on he would find his Merc covered in my son’s snot,

So next time you’re out in your car kid free,

Take some advice and listen to me,

Most people prefer their vehicles polished and clean,

Park in a parent/child space and you might find that your car mysteriously ‘turns’ green!

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Girl Code


(Basically, you’re a dick if you don’t follow it! 😳)

There used to be this thing, you see,

This disgusting trait called jealousy;

In younger years – I admit – I’d experience it some,

But less I feel (I hope) now I’m a Mum,

Beauty was something I longed for and saw it in everyone but me,

Spiteful words, twisted comments only made me more ugly,

Then I grew up and matured in every way,

And now I admire and praise the beauty I see each day,

I tell my pupils that in this life there will always be someone who is better at something than you,

And how they choose to accept this will reflect in all they do,

Coveting, we are taught, is a most evil sin,

If you want what others have, then the problem is deep within,

Take my girl – she’s beautiful, talented and smart,

She’s MY picture, perfect work of art,

But a day will come where she won’t feel good enough,

When perhaps school work just gets too tough,

But I don’t want her to desire the life of her peers,

She will be taught to face her fears,

You see, there’s this moral I have now learnt,

If you live by it, you won’t get burnt,

Motherhood: for seven years how I have glowed,

Because I fully live by the rules of the GIRL CODE,

Simple acts of kindness; compliments here and there,

‘Amazing outfit today and even better hair’,

Praise your sisters when they’re winning at life,

Doesn’t it feel better than twisting the knife?

Feeling fantastic and wearing that smile,

We’ll return that compliment and go an extra mile,

Stand by your girls; offer them support,

Make sure they don’t fall; ensure they’re caught,

Real girls won’t tear you apart or watch you break,

And the ones who do – it can’t be nice living in such hate,

Girl code means we love your family as much as we love you,

Follow our code and feel empowered in all you do,

Choosing not to listen and following the darker path,

And you’ll feel our collective wrath,

Stealing a kiss will turn you into a toad,

A perfect punishment for breaking our GIRL CODE!

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Life’s a Mountain

Life is a mountain we have been tasked to climb,

The battle though is where do we find the time?

You see, today I have washed three loads of washing,

ironed our clothes, marked 32 books,

wiped and wiped and wiped my son’s runny nose,

I’ve vacuumed twice, I’ve cleaned the loo,

Washed the dishes and dried them too,

But failure is written all over my face,

The mountain – I didn’t even reach the base,

Today I didn’t sit down and enjoy time with my children,

Their eyes were glued to screens too small,

Me at my laptop, I am even there at all?

I planned five lessons, wrote 60 reports

And then there was the other 32 books…

I teach a love of reading; ‘it’s my passion’, I claim,

But when my daughter wants to read with me,

My answer is always the same,

‘Soon, my dear’, ‘tomorrow perhaps’ and

‘I just don’t have the time, my love’

And the mountain’s top grows and shifts from above,

I feel so small because my children

haven’t seen their mother at all,

And so I start to wash and dry the dishes,

Feed the cat and clean the fishes,

It’s my job, my role to keep things ticking over,

Ensure to keep my house, my home, us alive,

Then the thoughts creep in,

Would anyone notice, notice if I…

This rhyme isn’t one I wish to finish,

My light, I won’t let it diminish,

And on I fight to make it through another day,

I text my mum and ‘sorry’ I say,

‘Sorry I came over feeling so stressed,

I don’t think I’m at my best’,

There’s no money left in the pot,

My housework has taken a back seat,

There’s just too many deadlines I have to meet,

I’m middle class, white, with a degree,

Our government takes no pity upon the likes of me,

With no pay rise in sight, my money fears grow,

Will I be able to provide for my family, I’ll never know,

It’s okay to talk and it’s okay to admit defeat,

It’s fine that you might not ever reach the mountain’s peak

Don’t stress about the unreachable summit,

Ask for help and please don’t plummet.


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I Am Woman

I am woman, hear me roar,

You call it nagging, but it’s so much more,

We can change the world with our coalesce voices,

We’ve fought, protested and died to get our own choices,

I am woman, hear me roar,

The louder we are, the harder to ignore,

Be vigilant, they warn, for an incoming attack,

But a woman will always have another woman’s back,

I am woman, hear me roar,

Can you see us up here, up here as we soar?

Mothers, wives, friends, sisters, aunts and teachers,

We’re not not impenetrable though, fear and grief – it can reach us,

We are women, hear us roar,

I’m not here to preach, just to implore,

You call us subversive, renegades, rebels and try to drag us down,

But you can watch from the sidelines as I wear my crown 👑

Some inspiration found in Parliament Square