For Lucy Sweeney, motherhood isn't all astanga classes and Cath Kidston prints. It's much more little dippers swimming club and baby-sick decor, and there's not a herbal tea in sight. It's been years since the clothes mountain was less than a metre high, months since Lucy last remembered to have sex with her husband, and weeks since Toddler has taken up using the bathroom bin as a toilet. Lucy is living in a state of permanent emergency, and the white lies to cover up the trail of slummy mummy destruction are escalating. When Husband on a Short Fuse is a far cry from distracting Sexy Domesticated Dad; Yummy Mummy No 1 has more cashflow than parenting advice; and Alpha Mum is casting a slur on your questionable domestic habits, it's hard to remember exactly why anyone would give up a career and their sanity for three raucous sons and less than blissful domesticity.