Why Mummy Drinks: The Sunday Times Number One Bestselling Author

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I had almost come to the conclusion that I didn’t really like the book, then I reread a few bits prior to writing this review and decided that I did enjoy it really; I just much preferred the blog. Reading this in small chunks may be best (I read it in a few days as I had lots of reading time while snuggling a not-sleeping toddler) to heighten the enjoyment. My parents’ divorce in my teens meant in theory that there were extra family groups who could potentially host Christmas, but when my late father was alive we were never quite sure who he’d be married to by Christmas, and more than once he’d found himself married to the sort of annoying woman who insisted on going on winter cruises, so hosting Christmas as well was seldom convenient. Well it is good to know I am not the only one! This book is so true to life that it has made me feel a million times better about myself! Gills Sims has written this in a really true to life format where you empathise with the main character throughout, at no point did I feel she was in the wrong! The plot’s a bit daft, featuring at least one completely ridiculous character, and a bit slim, too, but this is a diary and the fun is found in the details and the nods of recognition for mums caught up in a similar life stage. Final thoughts

There are several areas if this book that I feel could have been lifted straight out of my life, although I don't have a sister in law with 6 kids who thinks nothing gif turning up unannounced or with little warning. Hannah: It’s just so far! And he’s still my baby. Well, I know technically Edward is my baby, since he’s only four, honestly what possessed me to have another baby in my forties? Don’t answer that. Sambuca shots have a lot to answer for, as do second marriages. But Lucas is my baby too! And I know I’ve done Christmases without them when they were at their useless streak of weasel piss father’s but it’s not the same as Lucas being on the other side of the world on his own! I’ve always loved Christmas. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been convinced every year that this year – this year it would be perfect. This would be the year when everyone’s dreams would come true: the children would frolic, my carefully chosen gifts would be received with rapturous expressions on rosy-cheeked faces, I’d bear the bronzed and gleaming turkey to the table on some sort of (yet to be sourced) Golden Platter to stunned Oohs! and Ahhs!, and everyone would say, ‘Oh Ellen, this is marvellous. Verily, you are the Queen of Christmas’ before Simon kissed me under the mistletoe. Oh my God, Mother, it’s only bloody Verbier, will you stop saying “Abroad” like a xenophobic Nancy Mitford character?’ But Mummy does not want to go quietly into that good night of women with sensible haircuts who ‘live for their children’ and stand in the playground trying to trump each other with their offspring’s extracurricular activities and achievements, and boasting about their latest holidays.I do not. I do not do either of those things. Just because I take the time to consider the worst-case scenario …’

Peter is ‘finding himself’ in Thailand, while Jane has the effrontery to jet off skiing with her handsome new beau. I was trying very hard to hide my disappointment that Jane wasn’t coming home for Christmas, and so I resorted to my default setting in times of emotional distress of online panic shopping.You talk through everything. Every film, TV and radio programme. That’s not the point, though. The point, my darling, is – this is our chance to do this. To do the beach Christmas, or the country house hotel Christmas. There was always some reason before. Too expensive, the kids had things on, family was insisting on descending. But now, it’s just us. We can do whatever we want!’ I loved this book. Okay it was never ever going to improve my mind, but what it did do was make me laugh and make me laugh out loud.

What do you want?’ I demanded, immediately suspicious of such compliance in the face of Simon’s well-known miserliness and loathing of the human race. I’m not interfering. I just don’t think you’ve thought this through properly, so don’t get annoyed with me because I’m helping.’ In the book Mummy is constantly thwarted in her efforts to have well turned out, well rounded children who she has delightful little chats with and goes on lovely walks in the countryside with. They won't eat her lovingly prepared healthy food, look in horror at the idea of improving visits to art galleries etc and Daddy (otherwise known as Gadget Twat) longs for a 'simple lasagne', little knowing how much effort it takes to make said dish. His plaintive cries when failing to cope with his little dears if Mummy is out for a while made me laugh and I think that many stay at home parents will recognise the other parent not really understanding just what they do all day with the children. It's not all sitting about having coffee with the other mums! Well, she miraculously learnt to walk again, and her joie de vivre and positive outlook caused that to happen, but she still got run over! Surely in a just world, the little girl who brought joy to the sorrowing hearts of an entire town wouldn’t get run over in the first place!’ A truly fantastic funny read. If you are a parent, overworked, Not enough hours in the day, at the end of your tether and need to put a smile on your face then this book needs reading. Its one of those books that at regular intervals you have to stop and say to whoever is nearest to you, 'ahhh just listen to this'. lol lol lolThis book highlights some of the nightmares and of course the fun times parents can have with young children. It's told in a way you just can't help but laugh and enjoy it. It also highlights being a grown up, and that isn't always fun is it. Rafferty. I should have expected no better from a boy called Rafferty. The very name sounds too like ‘raffish’ and therefore is untrustworthy.

However, amid the ruin of her plans, Mummy clings to the hope of discovering a glimmer of joy somewhere under the mistletoe. Not at Christmas! Judgy loves Christmas. He’d be furious. Opening presents is his favourite thing. And Flora is too old for kennels, and what if she dies? And Barry? Well, poor little Barry, how you can abandon Barry at Christmas?’ And… I might have accidentally tumble-dried your favourite cashmere jumper! What!’ he protested, as I opened my mouth to roar with fury. ‘At least I’m admitting it. It did cross my mind to just put it in your drawer and let you think you’d put on weight. And I’m being a good and kind and loving husband by trying to make Christmas magical, so you can’t be angry with me.’ Why Mummy Series 4 Books Collection set by Gill Sims (Why Mummy Drinks Book & Journal, Why Mummy Swears, Why Mummy Doesn’t Give a [Hardcover])A T-shirt! On a morning in December!’ said Simon in outrage. ‘Imagine the heating bill. And as for sitting in your pants …’ And even though you are leaving me all alone at the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, because you’d rather piss off with your rich boyfriend and his stupid parents, I’m still helping, I thought sulkily to myself. His mother informed us that she had assumed his wife would be buying his advent calendars for him, now he was married, which came as something of a surprise to me, as I did not remember anything in our wedding vows about ‘To Be Your Bloody Mother From This Day Forth …’ I bought him a calendar the next year as a joke, but he didn’t seem to realise the joke part, going so far as to tell me that for future reference, he actually preferred a Thornton’s calendar to a Dairy Milk one, but he appreciated the thought. And so I continue to buy my forty-year-old husband an advent calendar every year, because apparently I am his mum now, and he is a spoilt child.”