Let's hear it for the Mates behind the Mums.

I adore my fellow Mummy friends. I cherish them and the playdates we share. I appreciate the advice they offer as we sit and groan about our husbands combine inability to perform housework.

Having said that….. Thank the HEAVENS for my darling friends who don’t have kids.

I have an absolutely divine friend, Miss K, who I have known since we were at primary school and I mean this with all sincerity, I would be locked in a dark room rocking in the foetal position if it wasn’t for her persistence. 

As having a group of women in your life experiencing the same milestones as you is a fantastic reference, having someone doing the exact opposite is an indulgently selfish way to live vicariously.

Sacrifice is such a big part of life once you become a Mummy. It’s one you make consciously and with honour, but it is one that engulfs your entire existence and transforms you into someone who lives for someone else. Your life is now dictated for you by people a quarter of your size to the point where you can’t remember what tea tastes like when it’s hot. In your mind, being there to watch your little one spin about in a dance for you, or draw with or just sit and cuddle, is so much much more important. 

This is why when you have a friend, who is as fabulous as Miss K, you value them with the utmost admiration. 

It’s not that the grass is greener, it’s that it’s an entirely different colour and is fascinating. Like reality TV but with much less fake tan.

Last year for example, my biggest achievement was a tie between toilet training a two year old and finding a great new chocolate cake recipe. Miss K, however, made a career change, went back to Uni to follow her dreams, became a marketing guru overnight and skited off to Scotland for New Years just because she could. Not to mention the list of boys who fall about yearning for her approval. 

And the clothes……Oh my word, the clothes. There are several of her dresses that I also consider close personal friends because I love them so. 

My latest splurge on the other hand was a pair of maternity pants.

This is why she is crowned Godmother to my Miss Boo, she is everything I want to be when I grow up and therefore everything I could wish my daughter to emulate.

But they’re not the reasons I love her. They’re the reasons I idolise her, but not the reasons I love her.

I treasure Miss K so much because she is one of the very very few people who has never stopped seeing me as me. To her, I didn’t suddenly become Dee the Mum like I did to so many other people. I was Dee, who just happened to be a Mum now.

In a world where I was promoted to a position that surrendered my previous existence upon application, the last slither of life where I call my own play is kept alive by her. 

Amongst this, she is also most insistent that I escape home life on a regular basis and sit and talk about things that relate strictly to my own interests and have absolutely nothing to do with my work as a Mum or wife. 

Of course, as all friends of Mum’s will relate to, she knows exactly when to say ‘awwwww’ and smile with patience when I do talk about my kids or force copious amounts of photos of them onto her. (If you are a friend of a Mum, we know you’re humouring us. We appreciate it. We also appreciate that you understand it will never stop. Ever.)

It’s a huge test when you’ve known someone for so long and shared such a kinship, only to find your life paths splitting into a fork in the road. Be warned, diligence is required in order to meet on the other end. It’s also wonderfully rewarded for those up to the challenge of hanging in there. 

Speaking from the perspective of a girl who had her best friend texting her for the duration of her 17 hour labour to ensure she didn’t miss facebook gossip, it’s extremely worthwhile.

(Side note, if your best friend is pregnant and wanting to share birth anecdotes with you…be warned it may put you off ever having your own.)

So if your friend just became a Mummy, please don’t think that for any reason they will ever need you less or ever value you less for not having your own. They will probably find it refreshing that you don’t know what the word colostrum means. And will appreciate that you just read that and made a mental note to google it later.

And if you’re a Mummy, may you be lucky enough to have a Miss K of your very own.