This week, so-called “slummy mummies” have come in for a bit of a lambasting.

Authors of books such as Hurrah for Gin and the Unmumsy Mum (who I adore) have been decried by a national newspaper for sharing their exploits of feeding their toddlers frozen fish fingers, swigging gin from baby cups and potty mouthed ranting about their kids online.

Which, as a mama and coming hot on the heels of mental health awareness week, rather makes my blood boil.

Being a mum is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I ADORE being a mother. Sonny Jim is truly all my oh-so-long awaited dreams come true. But I’m not superwoman – try as I may.

Sometimes, a glass of Prosecco at lunch while your toddler flicks humous everywhere is not just nice, it’s necessary. You won’t even get to finish your glass, but a couple of sips will remind you of the woman you used to be.

Sometimes, turning on baby TV and cuddling your baby with one arm so you can scroll through your phone for five minutes in peace, is just what you need to do.

Saying f*ck it under your breath when your little one wakes up for third time that night, for the 20th night in a row, doesn’t mean you consider yourself any less “blessed”. It makes you human.

It’s a little known, but frightening fact that suicide is the leading direct cause of death of mums within the first year after their child is born.

One in seven of the women who died during pregnancy or up to a year after giving birth killed themselves, says data compiled by MBRRACE-UK.

It’s clear then, I think, that authors who talk about the hard bits, who happily admit to not being perfect and taking the odd mummy shortcut, are to be applauded.

We’re all doing our best, muddling through in our own ways. So let’s stop the mummy judging, hey?

And don’t forget the Prosecco.

This post was first published in the Echo newspaper on Friday, May 19, 2017: www.echo-news.co.uk