It’s time 'mother’s ruin' had a rebranding for a modern age

I can tell you that I haven’t been anywhere near the gin, but I have had prolonged and frequent contact with something equally ruinous.

If you talk about “mother’s ruin” amongst friends, I’d wager that most of them would know you were referring to gin; they might also look at you slightly askance and wonder why you were using a somewhat outdated term when three letters would do.

In any case, I think it’s time “mother’s ruin” had an update, a rebrand for the modern age.

You see, since we had Baby Boy several weeks ago, I can tell you that I haven’t been anywhere near the gin, but I have had prolonged and frequent contact with something equally ruinous, albeit in a totally different way. I am, of course, talking about the Internet.

First up are those late night searches online when you’re up to feed your newborn bundle of joy or to change another nappy. Because, of course, such instances are the prime time to search for advice about that funny bump you’ve found at the back of your newborn’s head, or that restless feeling you’ve been getting in your leg for the last week.

Whatever your query, it’s likely to end in further doubt and uncertainty, robbing you of that precious window of sleep you could have otherwise had if you’d just waited to ask the doctor or the health visitor instead.

And that’s not all. As a new mum your access to shops, particularly ones that sell things you might want to wear, is likely to be highly limited.

Supermarkets and soft play are more your domain these days, which may help to explain why online shopping becomes so appealing.

This can be particularly ruinous if combined with the sleep deprivation and fluctuating hormones that go hand-in-hand with the newborn stage.

For example, just last week I was convinced that, yes, I really did want those fluorescent yellow trainers with contrasting day-glow pink laces.

And forget the returns policy, even with a generous 28 days, I’m never going to get them repackaged and down to the Post Office between the hours of 9am-5pm: I am ruined. (Or at least my outfits will be if I put those on my feet).

I just hope I’m not in when they try to deliver the matching t-shirt…