Dirty Little Secret


There’s a scene in Sex and the City 2 where Miranda and Charlotte confess their “dirty little secrets” of motherhood. As they’re shooting back cosmos, I kept waiting for them to veer away from the “I just need me time” cliches and get into the really dirty confessions.

It never happened.

I snorted, rolled my eyes and thought how this PC version of the dirty, little secrets of motherhood is doing more harm than good. Let’s face it, being a mum is hard. Like really, really hard. And every time we get together with other mums and start to let a whisper of truth out, we feel we must preface it with “Junior is amazing, wonderful, smart, kind, perfect child!”

Which is all true.

Still, just like a multi-million dollar movie star not wanting to admit being in make up for seven hours isn’t fun, we dance over the ugly truth of motherhood:

Becoming a mother does not transform us into calm, patient, serene earth mothers who float through life with long flowing dresses, flowers in our hair and the most advanced baby sling known to womankind. And it doesn’t transform us into organised, together power women who juggle work, family and a love life without breaking a sweat.

And if it did, I’d really like the name and number of your doctor. And want to know what pills your taking. Because I want some too.

So, in the interest of truth, let me share my dirty little secret:

I don’t like playing board games with my kids.

I swear Candyland was invented by some sort of diabolical sadist who gleefully laughs at the idea of some poor woman being sent all the way back to the Molasses Swamp. And don’t even get me started on Chutes and Ladders.

I can’t wait until they’re old enough to learn to play Monopoly.

What’s your dirty little secret?