Good news Ask Your Dad readers; I am currently typing this with two hands! That means I am back and posts written by yours truly will return soon! I just need to start writing – which I will tonight. I promise. I’ve got something fun in store for tomorrow! Until then, here’s one more guest post from my friend across the pond, Donna White at Mummy Central, a parenting blog based in the UK. This post is part of a little “blog foreign exchange” we’re doing, so stay tuned to her website where I will soon be representing the US! (I apologize in advance)

Also, if you have any questions about the British sounding terminology, feel free to ask Donna Directly through her twitter. She’ll be happy to teach you the lingo!

Memoirs of a committee mum

She’s the one you avoid eye contact with at the school gates, always
asking for raffle donations, tombola prizes, and – perish the thought –
volunteers.

British parenting website Netmums categorised her a while back,
flatteringly dubbing her “PTA busybody mum”.

*Stands up Spartacus style*

I am that busybody. Although in my case, I’ve only reached the dizzy
heights of playgroup.

So if you don’t mind, I prefer committee mum. Both of my sons have been
through our local playgroup, a registered charity which relies on fundraising.

So to give a little back (and I’ll admit, to exercise my brain cells)
I’ve spent more than two years doing roles from chairperson to secretary,
fundraiser and all-round general dogsbody.

The majority of committee mums I’ve worked with are likeminded,
roll-your-sleeves-up-and-get-on-with-it women I’m incredibly thankful for.

But I’ve met a less than helpful bunch who enjoy the title – without
doing any of the actual work. They merit their own special names. Let me
introduce them. 

Ostrich mum

Definition: Buries her head in the sand while a hive of activity goes on
around her. Misses meetings and claims she never got messages.

Most likely to say: “I didn’t realise there was a Spring Fair/cake sale/sponsored
walk. Nobody told me.”

You nod and smile sweetly, thinking of the six weeks of emails, the
posters everywhere and the texts you sent out, letting everyone know about the
event and asking for parent helpers. Was she on Timbuktu?

Martyr mum

Definition: Takes on a few jobs, then gets stroppy if asked to do anything else.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are doing twice as much.

Most likely to say: “I’ve done my bit. I’m
not having this dumped on me.” You’ve only asked her to do one thing while you source raffle prizes,
sell tickets, send thank you letters, put up posters and generally have a
nervous breakdown. But she baked a few cupcakes two weeks ago and is obviously still
suffering fatigue.

Faux dizzy mum

Definition: Quick to say what should be done – but ask her to do the simplest
task, and she plays the dumb blonde.

Most likely to say: “I would…. but I’m so dizzy I’ll probably forget. Perhaps you
should do it *giggles girlishly*”

She’s been asked to pick up a get well soon card for a sick member of
staff – and suddenly you’re confronted with fits of giggles and girly twirling
of hair. This is her way of saying you’ve got more chance of a date with George
Clooney.

Expert delegating mum

Definition: Has a job to do, but passes it off to others in small tasks – so
she hasn’t done much herself.

Most likely to say: “Did anybody do (insert task here)?”

Everyone is too gobsmacked to point out this is actually part of her
role.

When volunteers are needed for something else, she’s the first to bow
out, claiming she already does her bit. You scratch your head, wondering what
she actually does.

Extreme warning: Watch out for the
hybrid between this lady and Martyr mum – I’ve met an expert delegating martyr,
and she was unbearable.

“I would…. but I work” mum

Definition: Uses her job as an excuse, as if the rest of us are lazing around
at home with nothing else to do.

Most likely to say: “We should be doing
(insert task here). I would… but I work. I’m sure you ladies could oblige.”

She has no idea the phrase ‘working mum’ is redundant – because every mum works. Some of us just don’t
get paid for it. Instead, she waltzes in occasionally with her powersuit and
her mocha frappuccino, criticising the rest of us – who would gladly beat her
to death with her iPhone.

Friends of mine have argued these women may not have started out this
way.

By the time you’ve seen one child through playgroup, nursery and then
school, you’ve been grabbed by so many committees, PTAs and parent councils
that you’re totally burned out.

It’s hard to say no when you’re asked for help. But after a while, you
get to feel you’ve earned an easier ride.

This cuts no ice with some committee stalwarts, who are fed up with mums
joining up for the kudos – but not actually doing any work. Personally, I can
see both sides. It’s a vicious circle. The mums who can’t be bothered to
contribute make more work for the rest of us.

Meaning volunteer mums like me are wary about giving our time again. With
my boys out of playgroup, and my eldest now in school, I’ve side-swerved the
PTA… Because I’m considering becoming a bird-fancier.

The ostrich really is a beautiful creature.

Donna White is co-creator of Mummy Central (http://www.mummycentral.com) and a work-at-home mum of two boys, aged three and six. She has been a journalist for almost 20 years, and at the height of her career flew into Afghanistan with Tony Blair. She now spends her days wiping snot and listening to The Wiggles!