'I never made 'mum friends' at the school gate. It saved me from "comparisonitis".'

I remember when I got a dog; I thought it would be a great way to get to know people.

Our dogs would sniff each other’s bottoms and we owners would grip our leads and chit-chat about doggy things, then become besties.

It didn’t happen.

And personally, I think it’s the same with kids. I was hoping for an automatic motherly bond with other mums, for that instant connection, but it rarely appeared.

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I guess just because I and the woman waiting next to me at the school gate both pushed a small human out of our wiggly bits – it doesn’t mean we will have anything in common.

And this meant school pickup was never my favourite thing.

I know networking events give many business people the heebie-jeebies, but for me, it was the school gate. I never made friends there and here’s why.

1. I can’t make small talk.

I can cope with the nod, the smile, and the “How’s it going?”, but as soon as this escalates into an actual conversation, I struggle.

I struggled with conversations about poo and sleeping when my son was tiny and then tried hard to get into debates about teachers, playground skirmishes and book day as he got older.

My tedious talk of spreadsheets and email funnels didn’t exactly set the conversation off to a great start either.

2. I’m wracked with working mum guilt.

These days working mums are the majority; the Australian Bureau of Statistics tells us that  25.4 per cent of families with children aged 0-4 years have both parents working full-time and 74.7 per cent of those with kids aged under 15 have mums who work. 

But these statistics don’t do anything to smother the dull thud of 'mum guilt'.

When school pickup rolls around, I’m often screeching expletives at the computer as I desperately try to wrap up that one last thing. Totally forgetting that the whole reason I started my business was to have the flexibility to pick up my son. 

Ironic, right? 

And so when I encounter a mum that doesn’t work for whatever reason, I feel lesser. Not as mum-ish. A bit of a failure. For yes, I’m the mum who forgets book day and just sends my son to school in a dirty jumper with messed up hair so he can be Roald Dahl’s Mr Twit.

I’m the mum who buys Coles cupcakes for birthdays and squishes them a bit so they look more homemade.

No, I don’t join reading time.

No, I don’t volunteer at the canteen.

I struggle to manage the juggle.

I often feel I’m trying to run a successful business and still be a good parent and doing a pretty rubbish job at both.

And of course, the irony is I’m sure many stay-at-home mums may feel lesser around working mums, so we’re all stuck in a crappy circle of comparison.

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3. I’m an anxious beast.

Most chats reveal to me that I’ve forgotten some vital school event or activity, sending me home in a mad panic to randomly whip up a diorama of ancient Rome out of loo rolls.

And I massively overcompensate (mum guilt). A shining example of this was the ‘Under the Sea’ library challenge. I decided my son, then age seven, would make a shark. I watched 482 YouTube videos and even bought chicken wire.

And there I was, bleary-eyed up at 3am waiting for papier mâché to dry on a 5-foot monstrosity having barely allowed my son to help at all (just let me do it!!).

I’m exhausted, worried about my 9am Zoom call and the shark is still bloody moist.

(On a side note, my son actually won the competition, which gave me great pride and the school placed a size restriction on all future entries so I feel I kind of made history.)

The winning shark. Image: Supplied.

4. I want to avoid the ‘pick my brainers’.

The mums who do know what I do, often ask if we can just go for a coffee so they can ‘pick my brain’ about their business idea. And I feel terrible saying no, but I have to.

The reality is that while it might seem I have 30 hours a week between school drop off and pick up, I don’t. After you factor in lunch breaks, wees and actual billable time, it's often less than 15. I simply can’t afford to give away that hour.

I’d also never ask a doctor to look at the boil on my bottom* free of charge; asking for free advice is kind of the same thing.

5. I’m not that interested in school stuff.

I’m not sure if I should admit this, but I’m not that interested in school.

I’ve been, it was great, tick. Over it.

I love helping my son with projects and homework and talking about his day, but the politics, the “Mrs Do-dar did this”, and “Did you hear about the new air-conditioning unit in block two?”

Nope, don’t give AF.

I was glad when school started. Of course, I cried on the first day, and still occasionally feel sad when I see my son toddling through the door (he’s now a burly 14-year-old), but it was a fleeting, woeful feeling. 

Followed quickly by the sheer joy of being able to do my own thing, work on my business, and not be a mum for a few hours. I’m fine with having a mum ‘on’ and ‘off’ switch.

Kate at work. Image: Supplied.

Now all these points may evoke a chorus of boos and poo being posted through my letterbox.

“You have no social skills.”  Possibly true. “You’re judging non-working mums.” I’m not, I’m judging myself.
“You sound like a miserable old bitch.” Probably true.

But for me, putting on huge noise-cancelling headphones or having loud fake conversations on my phone saved me from school gate awkwardness. It saved me from imposter syndrome and comparisonitis.

Just as you sometimes need to mute people who stress you out on Instagram, sometimes you need to do this at the school gate. And that’s okay. Parenting is hard, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Now my son is 14 and would implode with embarrassment if I showed up at the school gate.

But back then, as someone who had to manage their time, energy and mental health carefully, I’ve come to terms with my school gate aversion. And if it gives you the ick, maybe you should too.

* I don’t have a boil on my bottom.


Kate Toon is an award-winning entrepreneur author, speaker, educator, podcaster, and parent to one human and one fur baby. From her humble backyard shed she masterminds an ambitious business universe, helping thousands of other humans to build their own version of success through digital marketing business know-how.
Buy her new book ‘Six Figures in School Hours: How to run a successful business and still be a good parent' on Amazon, Booktopia and all major bookstores.

Feature Image: Supplied.

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