Society’s Circus: chapter 5, Mother and Baby Classes, chapter 6, Social Media and chapter 7, Saying No

Society’s Circus

Society’s expectations of mothers are a relentless, unwritten rulebook of ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’, wrapped up in a shiny bow of judgement. No matter what you do, someone, somewhere, will have an opinion. In this section, we’re peeling back the layers of those expectations and tackling the guilt, pressure and downright absurdity of modern motherhood.

Chapter 5: Mother and Baby Classes

Mother and baby classes: the unspoken rite of passage for new mums. Whether it’s baby yoga, music time, or sensory play, these classes promise bonding, development and a chance to meet other mums. What they don’t promise is the awkwardness, self-doubt and occasional competitive vibe that comes with the territory.

There’s always that one mum with the impeccably packed nappy bag, the baby whose name nobody can pronounce (and that sounds like some kind of sexually transmitted infection) and a perfectly coordinated squad of friends who somehow managed to synchronize their pregnancies like a team of overachievers. Meanwhile, you’re just trying to keep your baby from licking the floor and wondering if you’re the only one who feels completely out of place. Spoiler: you’re not.

The reality of these classes is a mix of chaos and comedy. One minute, you’re singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle’ with a group of grown adults and the next you’re wondering if you’re smiling enough. Or too much? Does your baby think you’re happy? Does Karen from baby yoga think you’re happy? Are you even happy? Don’t let your face drop for a second because someone might think you hate motherhood and gasp, we can’t have that.

Here’s the thing: you don’t have to love these classes. You don’t even have to go. If they work for you, fantastic! But if they feel more stressful than beneficial, skip them. Your baby’s development doesn’t hinge on a weekly sing-along.

If you do go, embrace the absurdity and remember that everyone else it just winging it too. Those calm serene mums? They’re probably crying in the car on the way home because their baby skipped a nap. And that mum whose baby is screaming the loudest? She’s your ally – give her a smile and let her know she’s not alone.

And if all else fails, remember this: babies couldn’t care less about structured activities. They’re not critiquing your sensory bin or judging your baby yoga form—they just want cuddles, goofy faces and the sound of your off-key singing. So if you’d rather spend the morning in your pyjamas, twirling around the kitchen to “Baby Shark” like a sleep-deprived lunatic, go for it. The “perfect” mum is a myth, but the good-enough mum? She’s nailing it... even with toast crumbs in her hair.

Chapter 6: Social Media

Ah, social media: the land of pristine nurseries, colour-coordinated snacks and smiling families in matching outfits. It’s all so perfect, isn’t it? Except, it’s not. Behind every flawless Instagram post, is a pile of laundry shoved out of frame, a toddler tantrum muted and a mum who probably hasn’t peed alone in three days.

The illusion of perfection on social media feeds our insecurities. Sure, we tell ourselves we follow these people for a bit of ‘inspo,’ hoping to stumble upon a magical hack that will instantly transform us into some mythical hybrid of Nigella Lawson and Carrie Bradshaw. It’s easy to fall into the trap of comparison, wondering why everyone else seems to have it together while you’re waiting until it’s an acceptable time to open a bottle of wine (Now. The time is now.). The truth is, those snapshots are carefully curated highlights, not real life. Nobody’s posting about the 2a.m arguments, the passive aggressive texts with their spouse or the burnt dinners served with a side of tears.

And let’s not forget the ‘influencers’ who make it their life’s mission to showcase how utterly fabulous parenting can be – as long as you have matching outfits and a professional videographer on standby. Spoiler: most of them have a small army that keep things afloat behind the scenes. You? You’re just doing this with coffee, dry shampoo and sheer willpower. Give yourself some credit.

Here’s the secret: you don’t need to compete. You’re not failing because your child’s birthday party didn’t have a Pinterest-worthy balloon arch. You’re not less of a mum because your children still sleep in your bed. Real life is messy, unpredictable and often hilarious in ways no filter can capture. Embrace it.

So for those moments when the pressure gets overwhelming? Unfollow. Mute. Log off. Your mental health is more important than anyone’s highlight reel (afterall, you’re only inflating their bank accounts by engaging). Besides, their toddler probably just drew on their walls with permanent marker – they’re just not showing it.

Chapter 7: Saying No

“Can you bake cupcakes for the PTA cake sale?” “Would you mind just organising the shed?” “Mum, can you make me a pirate costume for World Book Day?” As a mum, ‘no’ often feels like a dirty word – but it shouldn’t be. After all, there are only so many hours in the day and you’ve already used most of them keeping small humans alive and trying not to cry.

Learning to say ‘no’ without following it with an apology or justification is the highest form of self-care. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for protecting your time and sanity. It’s okay to set boundaries and it’s okay if not everyone likes them. The PTA will survive without your hand baked cakes, the shed has always been a mess (why change it now?) and it won’t kill Jimmy to go as Harry Potter again for World Book Day.

Imagine this: someone asks you to take on yet another task and instead of scrambling for an excuse, you simply say, “No, that doesn’t work for me.” Boom. End of discussion. No awkward justifications, no promises to ‘maybe help next time’ – just a firm, unapologetic no. It’s not mean; it’s honest.

Start small. Replace, “I’m so sorry, I just can’t this time.” with, “No, I’m not available.” No excuses, no guilt, no over-explaining. Practice until it feels natural and watch how liberating it becomes.

And for those persistent guilt-trippers who can’t seem to take no for an answer? Politely suggest they take over instead. Nothing deflects pressure quite like, “Oh, maybe you could do it instead? You’d be brilliant!” Watch them backpedal faster than a toddler caught with a permanent marker.

Saying ‘no’ is about reclaiming your time, energy and peace of mind. Because you can’t pour from an empty cup, and frankly, you’re already pouring enough. So take that cup, fill it with wine and toast to finally putting yourself first.