8 Mum-Friend Types Sure to Piss You Off this Party Season

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Planning a piss-up with a mum friend or two this Christmas? Anticipating the usual last-minute text blowing you out because of some kid-related reason? Bracing yourself for the mate drunk before she’s finished straightening her hair, because she’s forgotten fuck-all sleep and alcohol are not great mixers? Well, those mum mates are just a couple of a number likely to drive you to Baileys this Christmas. And I’ll confess, I am pretty much all of these mum-friend types (*hangs head in shame*), but before you write off a festive bender with me, I promise you, a mum friend is not just for Christmas – she’s for life…

Conversations with this mum-type during a daytime meet-up often feel like a bad signal connection on a mobile, thanks to her unrelenting kids and sleep-deprived memory. “I am listening,” she’ll insist as she puts a wash on, shouts at her scrapping offspring and then wanders upstairs to bleach the loo. “Go on,” she’ll call from over the banister clutching a poo-speckled loo brush, “I’m still listening.” But rest assured, she so isn’t – because with or without her kids around, habitual multi-tasking at 1000mph has given her an attention span not dissimilar to a frenzied toddler. So, if you’re booking a boozy bender with a poor-listening mum friend be prepared to repeat yourself – a lot. Better still, get bladdered and then you can talk at each other bombastically and repetitively, as pissed people tend to do, and it won’t matter quite so much.
Expect this text before a night out with her: “What time are we meeting again? Where are we meeting? Who are we meeting? Are we eating? Worra-ma-like! LOL! X!”

This mum has big plans for her children. RADA, Sylvia Young, Italia Conti – they won’t know what’s hit them when her kids pas-de-bourrée across the stage, jazz hands aloft. Until that day, it is generally unsuspecting house guests she wields a poor reluctant child in front of, demanding they observe a song or dance or both. Of course, it all then gets a bit awkward when her kid stands there mute for several minutes as Stage-School Mum mutters apologetically, “I don’t understand it, he was doing it earlier…” Expect a similar level of neediness on a night out with her because, in the absence of a child to wield, her phone will be thrust in your face, full of endless living-room performances for you to coo over.
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Remind me to show you the video of Tabby singing all nine verses of Let It Go. OMG, you will die! Sooo cute. Her key worker at nursery said she is so much like Britney before the breakdown, it’s unbelievable… L8rs! “

Virtually everyone has a flaky mum friend. Lunches are cancelled last minute, texts go unreplied and postponed catch-ups are rarely rescheduled. Truth be told, a friendship with her requires a lot of patience and persistence as she rattles off child-related excuse after excuse. But trust that one day – perhaps when a midlife crisis strikes and she rocks up at your house in a pair of leather trousers, doobie dangling from her lip and her hand on the arse of a passing pizza boy she’s pulled – she will reward that perseverance with more debauchery than you can shake a glow stick at. In the meantime, however, you should probably best prepare to party without her…
Expect this text before a night out with her (minutes before you’re due to meet up): “Hi hun, so sorry but I’m not going to be able to make it. Jonah sneezed three times – in a row – and I’m really worried he’s got Ebola. GUTTED to miss you for the seventeenth time, obvs. Soz hun xxxx”

Unlike Flaky, this mum friend NEVER misses a catch-up or night out – especially if there’s booze involved. An evening with her will regularly see absinthe downed, waiters goosed, mum-moves busted – it’s never dull. It’s all good fun until she’s so twatted she can barely walk and then suddenly you’re the friend hunting for her bag/ holding her hair/ placating a very angry bouncer. She does it every time. In her excitement to be away from her children, she peaks far too soon forgetting her stamina has been seriously depleted from the exertion of pushing babies out of her vagina and then having to raise them. As she vows, in between sobbing and chundering, never to do this again, smile sweetly and pretend you believe her.
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Yo beeeyatch! Shall I get the cab to swing by Oddbins on the way over to yours? Thought we could swig a few Breezers before we hit The Oak? Truth be told, I’ve had a few already making tea… Shhh! Def not pis$ed th8ugh honesT x”

It’s rare to get Baby-Bore Mum Friend out for a night, because for her, a lovely evening is tucked up with a copy of Baby-led Weaning, or tutting angrily in front of The Three Day Nanny. If you do manage to entice her out, you should probably brace yourself for a barrage of baby theories and updates on her own kid’s development. Nod in all the right places and bristle angrily on her behalf when she relays how “outrageous” the health visitor was when she very casually informed her, her baby was slightly above the 50th percentile…
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Just to warn you, I might be a little late tonight because Jocasta has terrible separation anxiety. According to What to Expect, her cortisol levels are probably higher because of her primitive instincts that I will abandon her in the wild and leave her to be devoured by a man-eating animal. Anyway, I’ll tell you all about it when I see you! Ciao!”

The carnage that accompanies becoming a mum was a shock to the system for this friend-type, and as a result, she spends a lot of time audibly reeling from the various bodily fluid and gunk she regularly deals with. “Does this look like mastitis to you?” she’ll ask as she waps out a bap in Starbucks. “You could bungee jump with that bogie,” she’ll muse, holding up the stretchy lime green matter she’s just extracted from her baby’s nostril. Presume to feel yet more bilious on an evening jaunt because those social skills are well and truly shot, regardless of the adult environment, people around her attempting to consume food and drink, and dry heaving that follows virtually everything she says.
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Running a bit late – sorry! Had to deal with a massive shit! Honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it – was like a jar of piccalilli had exploded into every imaginable crevice! Bleurgh! My bowels have definitely not been the same since having kids… TMI?! Probably! Bye! Xx”

A bit like a trendy supply teacher, this mum believes you get the best out of kids if you treat them like adults. Consequently, an invitation to a dinner party at her house will generally entail a five-year-old sitting at the head of the table conversing in French with her stuffed Babar the Elephant, and an overtired three-year-old, still up at ten o’clock, screaming, “I HATE cous cous and I hate YOU!” You should fully anticipate beholding a similar scene if you are foolish enough to arrange an evening in a public place with her…
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Hi darling, you don’t mind if I bring India and Tilly with me, do you? Duncan and I are really keen to respect them as individuals and not impose restrictive routines that might impact negatively on their cognitive development. They’re fabulous company though, and Tilly has some wonderful insight she wants to share with you about Jeremy Corbyn…”

OK, her time-keeping is pretty tardy, frequently blustering in late for lunches with a child on each hip and usual someone-shat-everywhere explanations. True, she sends your birthday present generally three weeks after the actual date. And yes, she has a terrible tendency to cry off from two in every three planned night outs. In fact, she is all of the above mum-types. But try as you may, you can’t shake this mum-mate off. She will never be completely off the radar because, much like those very profound Spice Girls, she believes friendship never ends. Even when you wish she’d zigga zig-ah off, she’ll be there, slamming her body down, winding it all around… You know, eventually
Expect this text before a night out with her: “Cannot fucking wait to see you! Let’s do shots! And cocktails! And go dancing! And get off with boys! Oh no, wait – better not do that… LMFAO! Do you remember that time you shagged that bloke with the womanly hips? Think he works behind the bar in Big Chicks now… Anyway, see you later! LOVE YOU.”

Merry Christmas, mum and all! Gizza like here please..? www.facebook.com/wordtothemothers

Discussions — 3 Responses

  • zeena2001 December 1, 2015 on 5:07 pm

    Well, if you lived in Bristol, I’d definitely get pissed with you MBFF (until you know, 9pm…when I’m not flaking that is… And I am your mum friend – got yer virtual back innit!

    • Emily-Jane zeena2001 December 1, 2015 on 5:31 pm

      Totes honoured MBFF..

  • zeena2001 December 1, 2015 on 5:08 pm

    I always reply in the wrong bit! See below, MBFF…