Mum Truth #2 – School Emails Always Arrive at 8pm

There’s a special kind of dread reserved for parents. It’s not the sound of silence when you know the toddler is up to something. It’s not the phrase “What’s for dinner?” when you’ve already cooked two meals. No, it’s worse.

It’s the 8pm ping of doom.

You’ve just sat down after an evening of refereeing sibling fights, burning fish fingers, and pretending folding laundry counts as cardio. You’ve got a hot cuppa in one hand, a biscuit in the other… and then it happens.

“Reminder: Tudor costume needed TOMORROW.”

TOMORROW. As in less than 12 hours from now.

Excuse me, but why is my child’s education now dependent on my ability to turn a pillowcase into Elizabethan couture at 8:01pm?

Why Always 8pm?!

Why?! Schools have all day to send emails. Do they hold staff meetings at 7:59pm just to agree on the exact moment parents are about to relax before they hit “SEND”?

And it’s never something achievable, like “don’t forget PE kit.” No, no. It’s “Please send your child in full 16th-century attire, complete with accessories and historically accurate footwear.”

Oh sure, let me just nip to the loft where I keep Henry VIII’s spare doublets.

The Panic Costume Rush

Cue the meltdown:

• My 7-year-old declaring he will “die before wearing tights.”

• My 9-year-old demanding a dress “like a queen’s but make it glittery.”

• The toddler gleefully emptying the sock drawer with not a clue about what's going on.

Meanwhile, my coffee is cold, my biscuit has vanished (the toddler again), and I’m Googling “how to make a ruff out of kitchen roll.”

My Expert-Level Hacks (Born of Trauma)

After years of this nonsense, I can now assemble a Tudor costume in 20 minutes flat. All you need is:

• White shirt + waistcoat = Tudor boy. Ta-da. Done.

• Bedsheet + belt = medieval queen. Instant royalty, fabric softener smell included.

• Cardboard crown + tinfoil sword = masterpiece. Add stickers if you want to show off.

Take a look at some save the day items. Craft kits, fancy dress (for those who learn their lesson), and glue guns (for those of us who never do).

The Real Parent Admin Struggle

And let’s not forget — the costumes are just the start. Sometimes the 8pm ping says:

• “Bring £1 for Pyjama Day.”

• “We need 47 toilet rolls for a rocket project.”

• “Your child needs a Viking shield tomorrow.”

Viking shield?! What am I, the props department for Game of Thrones?

The Real Mom Truth

I’ve accepted it now: school admin exists purely to keep parents humble. One minute you’re smug because you remembered packed lunches. The next, you’re at midnight hot-gluing feathers to a cereal box crown while muttering, “This will do.”

But here’s the thing: the costumes might be held together with tape and tears, but the kids don’t care. They’re thrilled. They walk in proudly, while you sit at home recovering from your hot-glue burns.

And that, my friends, is parenting.

So here’s to all the parents frantically raiding the recycling bin at 11pm, dressed in pyjamas, whispering “this is fine, I've got this” as they craft. You are the unsung heroes of education.

 Stay tuned for Mum Truth #3: Parent Maths – The Yoghurt Equation. Spoiler: it proves once and for all that maths really is nonsense.