I'm a Mean Mum 😖😖😖

And I don't care

Hello World,

More disclosures and oversharing from me this week. Now’s the time to look away if you’re not interested!

This week I’ll be covering all the ways I deliberately choose to be a Mean Mum to my two incredible teenage daughters.

I’m sharing this in case some mum out there needs the encouragement/ fortification/ support to say no to her kids or to set new boundaries or lay down some rules.

Strap in. Let’s go.

1. No TV subscriptions. Whaaaat? Yes! You heard me. During Term time we cancel our TV subscriptions. When Week 10 rolls around, we agree on one subscription as a family and we have it for one month. By Week 2 of the next school term, it’s gone.

   This rule came about for a few reasons - first Babes* and I did a huge financial audit and decided that it was ridiculous to be spending literally hundreds of dollars per year on… television.

   We also wanted to support Yaya* who’s currently in a death-roll with Year Twelve. We could see it was hard for her to exclude herself from the family to study while we were all having a jolly good time watching the tele. It was also hard for me when I was in an intensive work phase with my writing and had to do ‘overtime’ of an evening.

   Also, we were watching way too much TV. We’d finish dinner and then assume the position. We’d eat sugary snacks and just sit there, as though we were trying to catch obesity and a touch of Type Two diabetes.

   It was a family decision but I’m the Mean Mum who enforces it.

   We are better off for it - reading more, getting to bed earlier and spending time together of an evening hanging out - chatting, crafting, telling stories, playing cards and generally being happy living in the dark ages. Plus - we found loads of fun things to watch on ABC iView and SBS on those occasions when we felt like a movie night or some tele before bed.

2. The girls receive a $25/week allowance.

   “Wait! What?” I hear you scream! “That’s not a Mean Mum. That’s very very freaking generous.”

   I know. I know. But stay with me and listen to the caveats.

   That’s all they get.

   From that $25 they have to pay for anything extra they want (or believe they need).

   So that covers: tuckshop lunches, special desserts, lollies, trips to Maccas after school with mates, make up, accessories, extra clothing (I’ll talk more about clothing in a bit), trips to the movies, extra school supplies, ‘cool’ lunch boxes or ‘on trend’ drink bottles (my God, the obsession with drink bottles ***insert eye roll***), toys, games, art supplies, crafty stuff, fuel, phone subscriptions…. they have to budget save and plan for all those things.

   Also - the expectation is that they’ll purchase presents for family members and their close friends from this allowance, as well as honouring Christmas, Easter, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day gifts. Again this came about after Babes and I did the epic audit and realised just how much of our hard earned dough was being spent on our kids for things they really could live without!

   The $25/ week allowance has seen the girls now budgeting, planning, saving, changing plans and making more frugal choices.

   The $25 is pretty much a given. They don’t have to do specific chores as such to ‘earn’ it. However, there’s an expectation that they have to contribute to the house work and ‘family life’ in meaningful and consistent ways, otherwise they’ll not be given the money. So my girls are quite familiar with all the tasks associated with managing a household - washing dishes, cleaning showers, vacuuming, feeding pets, walking the doggo, changing sheets… I’m nagging less and saving money. Win! Win!

3. No social media.

   I held off on Smart Phones as long as I could and when they prettty much became a necessity for communication when the girls were out in the wild, the agreement was NO SOCIAL MEDIA. This was well before the loose and very ineffectual social media age restrictions came into place. And it continues beyond in our house because I’m a Mean Mum.

   Yaya* is not allowed to download any socials until she’s 18 and even then, we’re suggesting not until after the last of those bloody awful HSC exams.

   I really don’t think I’m being a Mean Mum here. There’s very little evidence that shows social media is good for anybody’s brain, least of all brains that are still growing and developing.

   Having said that, the girls have really felt this one at times. They have missed out on jokes, parties and invitations because of conversations had in online social spaces that they didn’t have access to. They’ve also missed out on a lot of gossip and drama too. It’s a tricky one because we don’t like the idea of our kids missing out, but I don’t believe they “miss out” by not having social media.

   In fact there was a long drive to Melbourne a few years back where Yaya* explained to me how she’d NEVER get a boyfriend because she didn’t have “snap”*. My response was essentially that any boy worth having a relationship with would have the integrity to ask for her phone number. Yay rolled her eyes because apparently exchanging numbers is archaic. Nobody speaks on the phone - they just sent disappearing messages which - under the right circumstances - meant you and the other kid were ‘going out’.

   I rolled my eyes right back at Yaya and held my ground.

   Turns out, the right kid did come along and ask for her phone number.

   They’ve been dating nearly twelve months and they talk on the phone (like dinosaurs) most nights. Sorry - my bad - they actually FaceTime like very cool kids. Best bit is, I didn’t even have to say I was right. Yaya herself said it to me.

   And she also says she’s glad I didn’t let her have socials too soon because she can see how addictive they can be, she can see the way they disconnect us from real-life relationships and she believes her peers have less confidence talking to adults because they’re so used to communicating via their apps. Anyway - at the end of the day, I’m happy with my decision.

4. Now the girls are in high school, I don’t help with homework.

   This has been a tricky one.

   I’m a (recovering) teacher, so I know some stuff.

   I never taught high school but I can manage most high school homework and if I can’t, I know where to find the solutions.

   What started happening, when I tried to help with homework, was that we would inevitably end up in a fight.

   Because the thing with teenagers is that

   even if they don’t know something,

   they know everything.

   People who have teenagers will understand this oxymoron.

   So if I started to explain something, they’d insist it was so radically different to their teacher’s instructions, that they couldn’t ever at all get on board with my way of doing the task.

   When I offered helpful comments after listening to a long essay, or a long story, or a long discursive, or a long powerpoint presentation, I was always told my ideas were not helpful at all. Even if I pointed out a spelling mistake! (I’ll fix that up later, Mum. Please stop screaming at me about spelling!)

   So we drew a boundary around it and agreed, as a family, that parents wouldn’t help with homework. We still listen to their stuff when they want to read it out but we don’t offer feedback, we just provide the audience. They often help each other and at times, we’ve engaged a tutor or two. But, for the most part, their school work is a situation where we offer encouragement and support, but not help. When they feel stuck, we direct them to their teachers, to one another, to phone a friend, to consult the vast intellectual surface of the Internet or to go to the Library and find a book that might be useful. But, for the sake of our family’s peace, Babes* and I don’t get involved with homework. Best decision we ever made.

5. We’ve set a budget on clothes. And it’s actually really tight.

   Two teenage girls. So many clothes.

   Even shielded somewhat from social media as they are, their craving to curate a particular “look” is intense.

   Of course our annual audit revealed that Babes and I were spending quite a lot of moola on clothes that were barely worn before being kindly set aside for donation. Meanwhile, Babes and I were wearing clothes circa 2012 and telling one another we still looked smokin’ hot. Something had to change. So Mean Mum came up with the idea of The Holiday $200.

   At the end of each school term, both girls get $200. During the holidays they have to buy clothes they think they’ll need for the upcoming season. And when I say clothes, I mean all clothes - socks and jocks, bras and boots, jeans and tees. They choose the clothes, they decide what they need, they budget the cash. Again, this has been revolutionary. Our daughters have realised, very quickly, how much things cost. They plan now for what they need, they save their allowance to top up their clothing shop and they now request ‘bigger ticket clothing items’ as birthday presents. They love their clothes more now, they look after them better and they’re much more thoughtful shoppers. And with the money we’re saving, we’re planning a family holiday!

   Before I move on to my next hot take on being a Mean Mum I want to say that we are not loaded with cash. These figures I’m quoting might sound as though we’re wiping our butts with five dollar bills. Believe me - we’re not. (Please buy my books!) The figures we came up with were based on our annual audit, what we could feasibly manage and what was reasonable for the girls to work with.

6. I make the girls Hug It Out.

   Yaya and The Boph* don’t fight very often. They love each other in a way I can’t describe.

   During my years of being single, I often had moments where I felt as though I was living with a married couple. Their relationship has a beautiful flow to it, there’s a lot of care, respect and safety.

   But when they fight, it’s bloody spectacular.

   And every now and then, they can’t seem to find a resolution.

   When this happens, you’ll hear me shouting loud above their squall.

   Three words they hate but I love:

   “Hug It Out.”

   They will put their arms around one another and look at me with daggers. Sometimes they continue arguing as they stand there.

   But after some time, their bodies will melt and something will soften and we can usually find a talking point. It doesn’t solve everything completely but it’s a good starting point. As they’ve grown older, Hug It Out has lead to “now go into a bedroom and talk it out”. Eventually, they find their way to peace again and all is (generally) well. Hug It Out will remain in my mothering tool kit until I die. Please try it and let me know how it goes!

   

7. (Don’t Judge Me!) I make instructional videos on how to perform various household tasks and then spam the family group chat with them.

   I think the last vid I made was called “Where Things Go In Our Fridge”. Seriously. I was tired AF of the cheese being dumped in the crisper and the plate of leftovers being balanced on top of the lovely soft triangle peak of a very expensive watermelon.

   I’ve made ones about the placement of saucepans in the corner cupboard and the best placement of Tupperware in the other corner cupboard. I can forsee one coming up about “the-second-drawer-down-in-the-kitchen” which jams shut because the people I live with believe that anything that doesn’t identify as a knife, fork or spoon belongs in the second drawer… which is ridiculous because all the sharp knives, spatulas, wooden spoons, ladles, measuring spoons, egg lifters, peelers and serving spoons cannot fit in a single drawer… And what’s with all these freaking gadgets? Why do we need so many gadgets? Who is using all these gadgets? Whatevenisthisthing….

   Whoa. I’m sorry. I forgot myself there for a minute.

   Forgive me?

   One day I might grow brave enough to share with you a snippet of my instructional videos. They are likely hilarious but they really don’t feel funny to me in the moment.

   Anyway - they work. I hear the kids whisper things when they’re drying up:

   “don’t put that there, Mum will crack the shits.”

   Yes she will, I think from the lounge, yes she will.

There are loads more things I do. Mean little things. I might one day even write a part two on this exact topic.

My point is:

I’m their mum.

I’m always their mum.

And nobody but me can ever be their mum.

I think that’s so special.

I don’t want to be their friend. Ever.

I want to be their mum - the person they think of as they move through life making decisions and managing their own homes and becoming mothers themselves.

I want them to recall the things I taught them - the values and the life hacks and the relationship skills. I want them to grow to understand that even though some things felt mean or challenging or difficult, that I was growing them up and into the best adults they could be.

Yours in Mean Mum Energy,

Gabbie

*Babes - aka Clint Wilkie best husband ever (totally worth the wait)

*Yaya - Livvy

*The Boph - rhymes with Soph

PS No book recommends this week. I’m drowning in my structural edits so reading anything other than my latest work has been limited. What are you reading???