By Victoria Vanstone – Author of Mumming – A Year of Trying (and Failing) to be a Better Mum.

I knew I was failing at motherhood the night I found myself bribing my child with an actual five-dollar note just to get her to go to bed.

It was late, I was tired, and she was wide awake, bouncing around her bedroom like an overtired lunatic. Desperate, I waved the money in front of her like some kind of bedtime auctioneer. “Go straight to sleep, and this could be yours!” I said, praying she’d take the bait.

She grinned, snatched it from my hand, and skipped off to bed like a tiny, unicorn night dress wearing, capitalist. I stood there, stunned, realising I had just paid my own child to do something every other kid in history has done for free.

As she tucked herself in, clutching her note, I thought, Well, that’s not in the parenting books, is it?

But the truth is, if I was actually following a parenting book, I’d be failing it anyway.

I’m Vic, and like most mums, I am a walking contradiction. I’ve been many different people in my life….a writer, a podcaster, a party girl, a professional over-sharer—but these days, I am mostly just Mum. I have three kids: George, Nell, and Fred. I love them more than life itself, but some days, I have absolutely no idea who I am.

The mum I imagined I’d be, the patient, nurturing, always-present mother—has yet to make an appearance. Instead, I seem to be a rotating cast of characters. Some days, I am an earth mother who bakes banana bread and excretes playdough on demand. Other days, I am a caffeine-fuelled storm, yelling at tiny humans to find their shoes while silently wondering if I could fake my own disappearance. Most of the time, I exist somewhere in the chaotic middle, half-laughing, half-crying, and wondering if I’ll ever truly get the hang of this parenting thing.

And that’s exactly why I wrote Mumming. Because if you’ve ever felt like you’re failing at motherhood, you are definitely not alone.

The Expectation vs. Reality of Motherhood

Before I had kids, I had a very clear picture of the kind of mother I was going to be.

I imagined myself calm, patient, and wholesome. A woman who bakes cookies from scratch, who knows all the words to bedtime lullabies, who enjoys crafting with her children instead of resenting it deeply.

I had Pinterest boards filled with healthy lunchbox ideas, rainy day activities, and inspirational quotes about motherhood. I imagined myself wearing flowing linen dresses, drinking herbal tea while reading a parenting book, nodding sagely as I absorbed wise teachings on “gentle discipline” and “nurturing emotional intelligence.”

Instead, I have become a woman who eats the kids’ snacks in secret, who swears under her breath at tiny shoes that mysteriously disappear, and who once told her children, “If you keep fighting, I will sell you both on Facebook Marketplace.”

They kept fighting. No one was sold.

Why We Need to Talk About Failing

The problem is, we only ever see two versions of motherhood.

The first is the picture-perfect, Instagrammable, (is that a word) white-linen-clad mother who drinks matcha and loves every second of being a parent. The second is the frazzled, wine-drinking, “I hate my kids” disaster mum who’s one tantrum away from a breakdown.

But most of us live in the middle.

We love our kids fiercely. We would throw ourselves in front of a bus for them. But we would also really like them to stop talking for five minutes so we can finish a cup of tea while it’s still hot.

Some days, we are incredible. We are fun mums, patient mums, the mums we always hoped we’d be. Other days, we are just trying to get through without crying in a supermarket car park.

And that’s okay.

Since becoming a mother, I have fed my children cereal for dinner because I simply could not be arsed to cook. I have lost my temper over ridiculous things, like how my child breathes too loudly when I’m trying to concentrate. I have let my kid eat something off the floor and just hoped for the best. I have pretended not to hear them fighting so I could have a five-minute break. I have lied about the WiFi being broken because I couldn’t handle another episode of some mind-numbing kids’ show. I have hidden in the bathroom to eat chocolate so I wouldn’t have to share. And I have told my kids that soft play centres are only open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. They are not.

Every single one of these things felt like a parenting failure at the time. But do my kids love me? Yes. Do they think I’m the best mum in the world? Most of the time, anyway.

So maybe failing isn’t really failing. Maybe it’s just parenting.

And perhaps mums deserve more credit?  We are under so much pressure to do everything right. Yet, no one helps. We’re supposed to be patient, fun, loving, organised, tidy, career-driven, available, emotionally stable, financially responsible, and full of Pinterest-worthy meal ideas at all times. I don’t know about you, but I can barely do three of those things on a good day.

And yet, we judge ourselves constantly. We feel guilty if we don’t spend enough time with our kids, but we also feel guilty if we do and get nothing else done. We feel guilty if we lose our patience, but also guilty if we don’t discipline them enough.

It’s a no-win situation. So maybe we should stop feeling guilty about the ways we fall short. Maybe we should start celebrating the wins we actually have.

Kept tiny humans alive today? Win. Didn’t lose your cool too much? Win. Fed them something, even if it was mostly beige? Win. Survived bedtime without needing medical attention? Major win.

Motherhood isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up, again and again, no matter how messy, loud, or chaotic it gets. It’s about loving them fiercely, even when they drive you mad. It’s about doing your best, even when you feel like you have nothing left to give. It’s about laughing at the absurdity of it all, because if you don’t, you’ll cry.

And Mumming is all about that version of motherhood. The version where you’re half asleep, covered in yoghurt, Googling “Why do my kids hate me” while pretending to listen to a story about a made-up dinosaur called Tony.

It’s a book that says: You’re not alone.

If you’ve ever had a bad parenting day, welcome to the club. If you’ve ever had a moment of regret, exhaustion, or total defeat, I see you. And if you’ve ever felt like you were completely failing at motherhood, let me reassure you.

You are not failing. You are just a mum.

And that, my lovely, tired Mummy friends, is more than enough.

Victoria Vanstone is a writer, podcaster, and professional over-sharer. She is the host of Sober Awkward, a podcast about ditching booze and finding joy in the awkwardness of sobriety. Her latest book, Mumming: A Year of Trying (and Failing) to Be a Better Parent, is a hilariously honest look at parenting failures and why they don’t make us bad mums—they just make us mums. Victoria lives on the Sunshine Coast with her annoyingly nice husband, three sticky children, and a dog that listens better than any of them.

Find her at @drunkmummysobermummy or hiding in the Aldi car park with a family size packet of chips.