Often spotted wearing floaty organic cotton and hand-tooled sandals handcrafted by a Free Trade co-operative in the Outer Hebrides, Smug Mummy is easily identified by her self-righteous glow, a side-effect of the massive exertion of effort she undergoes in order to make other non-SM mothers feel utterly inferior in comparison to her own wonderful self.
SM's children only eat organic macrobiotic wholefoods (preferably harvested under a full moon by Himalayan virgins) and they never, ever eat anything that might even have been within nodding distance of GM foodstuffs, dairy, trans-fats or (gasp horror) be processed. Her darlings' 'treats' consist of ethically-sourced carob bars which are carefully doled out once a month; little does SM know that dear little Tristan and Isolde have a secret trade going with other kids in their class, exchanging high-sugar and fat contraband items for answers to the weekly homework task.
Breastfed until the age of three to maximise their brain development (SM developed a special diet rich in Omega oils for herself for this very purpose), Tristy and Issy now undergo a rigorous programme of after school activities carefully selected to develop their brains, bodies and souls: Kumon maths, oboe and harp lessons, Mandarin and Ancient Greek, sunset yoga and Sanskrit chanting are just some of the classes carefully selected to accelerate their learning and help them reach their full potential. SM secretly worries when the kids go on playdates that they might be exposed to such horrors as Playstation, television and plastic toys that haven't been handcrafted using traditional techniques, so different from the spiritual haven of their own home.
SM gave up work once she had the kids - after all, Tristy and Issy are her focus now and she always felt uncomfortable in the commercial soullessness of paid employment. She spends her days worrying about the ethics of her gas-guzzling 4x4 and if she should invest in a hybrid, shopping at the Organic supermarket, and trying to find clothes for Tristy and Issy that haven't originated from a sweat-shop somewhere horrid.
One day, SM hopes, Rory will be posted somewhere more real, somewhere more in line with her ideals, somewhere she can really mingle with the locals and make a difference. Somewhere like Nepal, perhaps, or India. Then, she hopes, their lives will really begin to feel more profound, more worthwhile, more essential. One day...
Most likely to say: "Darlings, eat up your nutritious mung-bean bake and then you can have a delicious soy-milk fruit smoothie for dessert. And you know what, it's the weekend! So why don't we play a nice non-competitive game of snap before we all have a fun time mulching the vegetable garden!"
Least likely to say: "Darn it kids, mommy's tired and emotional, the fridge is bare and can I be bothered to go to the supermarket? Hell, no. MacDonald's Happy Meals all round!"
SM's children only eat organic macrobiotic wholefoods (preferably harvested under a full moon by Himalayan virgins) and they never, ever eat anything that might even have been within nodding distance of GM foodstuffs, dairy, trans-fats or (gasp horror) be processed. Her darlings' 'treats' consist of ethically-sourced carob bars which are carefully doled out once a month; little does SM know that dear little Tristan and Isolde have a secret trade going with other kids in their class, exchanging high-sugar and fat contraband items for answers to the weekly homework task.
Breastfed until the age of three to maximise their brain development (SM developed a special diet rich in Omega oils for herself for this very purpose), Tristy and Issy now undergo a rigorous programme of after school activities carefully selected to develop their brains, bodies and souls: Kumon maths, oboe and harp lessons, Mandarin and Ancient Greek, sunset yoga and Sanskrit chanting are just some of the classes carefully selected to accelerate their learning and help them reach their full potential. SM secretly worries when the kids go on playdates that they might be exposed to such horrors as Playstation, television and plastic toys that haven't been handcrafted using traditional techniques, so different from the spiritual haven of their own home.
SM gave up work once she had the kids - after all, Tristy and Issy are her focus now and she always felt uncomfortable in the commercial soullessness of paid employment. She spends her days worrying about the ethics of her gas-guzzling 4x4 and if she should invest in a hybrid, shopping at the Organic supermarket, and trying to find clothes for Tristy and Issy that haven't originated from a sweat-shop somewhere horrid.
One day, SM hopes, Rory will be posted somewhere more real, somewhere more in line with her ideals, somewhere she can really mingle with the locals and make a difference. Somewhere like Nepal, perhaps, or India. Then, she hopes, their lives will really begin to feel more profound, more worthwhile, more essential. One day...
Most likely to say: "Darlings, eat up your nutritious mung-bean bake and then you can have a delicious soy-milk fruit smoothie for dessert. And you know what, it's the weekend! So why don't we play a nice non-competitive game of snap before we all have a fun time mulching the vegetable garden!"
Least likely to say: "Darn it kids, mommy's tired and emotional, the fridge is bare and can I be bothered to go to the supermarket? Hell, no. MacDonald's Happy Meals all round!"
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