Why I'd fail on a Mother's Day Report Card

I remember being about nine-years-old and presenting my mother with a form I had brought home from school.

“The teacher said you have to fill in all the boxes,” I told her.

Dutifully, she sat down and set about her task, but moments later she got up, phoned a friend and asked if she’d seen the form for herself.

I had paid no attention to the words on the piece of paper, so had no idea what had irked my mum.

All I knew was that teacher had said she had to fill in the boxes and now here she was causing a fuss and making me nervous.

I heard her whispering furiously that the school were asking my mother, in a roundabout way, to reveal her salary.

I didn’t even know what a salary was, but from the irritation in my mum’s voice I guessed it was something you shouldn’t tell strangers.

Like your address or the whereabouts of your mum if you answered the phone when alone in the house.

Now, with a child of my own, I’m all too aware of how often personal family details are laid bare in the classroom, but we expect it of children.

Spilling secrets and comparing family life is how they learn, grow and communicate with each other, but teachers don’t have the same privilege.

So when I heard about one outraged mother in the States who was assessed by her child at the behest of her teacher for Mother’s Day, I felt acutely uncomfortable and then seriously furious.

According to the teacher at the centre of the social media storm, having bubble baths, boasting an organised room and appreciating a good book are just some of the ways she would rank you as a mum.

Well, that makes things very awkward for me because the last time I had a bath was with Ella at about 4.30 in the morning after she spent five hours vomiting and needed quiet-time with mummy. My bedroom is organised only because I spent next to no time in it and the last book I read was Ella’s favourite because while I’ve ignored my love of reading, I’ve been attempting to cultivate hers.

To expect a child to assess their mum under the guise of a Mother's Day task is bad enough, but to request it under such limited terms is abhorrent.

My life is full of mums.

I know some who couldn’t do one-tenth of the things I do with my eyes closed, but don’t bat an eyelid over things that keep me awake at night.

I’m friends with mums who make it all look so effortless, but in more vulnerable moments reveal they’re plodding along just like the rest of us.

I know mums who would struggle to recognise their own child’s hands in a line-up and relish the moments you turn up late for school registration because you and your daughter couldn’t bear to end the game of 'Princesses' you were playing under the kitchen table, but that doesn’t mean they’re not doing their level best as well.

We all have our strengths and God knows, we all have our weaknesses.

Is it up to us to acknowledge and accept them? Yes.

Is it up to our child’s teacher? No.