Frozen Pizza and Mum Guilt: A Love Story

Tonight, I served my daughter a frozen pizza for dinner. Not homemade, not sourdough from scratch with lovingly simmered tomato sauce—just a frozen pizza chucked in the oven, cut with kitchen scissors (because let’s be real, the knives are buried under yesterday’s washing up).

The kitchen is a mess. The house is a mess. I am a mess. And today, getting out of bed felt like climbing Everest in flip-flops. I had big plans to make a nutritious dinner full of colours and hidden veg, but honestly, I just didn’t have it in me.

Cue the creeping feeling of mum guilt. That nagging little voice whispering, “You should be doing more. Other mums are doing more.” But here’s the thing I’m reminding myself (and maybe you need to hear too): we are not meant to run at 110% all the time. We are not machines.

Some days we’ll bake muffins and tidy the toy corner. This day did start with a gorgeous banana bread, yet simmered into tiredness. Other days we’ll survive on snacks and screen time, and dinner will be served in under 12 minutes, courtesy of the freezer aisle at my local supermarket. 

But my daughter still ate. She still smiled. She’s still loved—and so am I.

If you’re a fellow tired mum or dad reading this, please know: “good enough” is enough. Frozen pizza counts. Sitting on the floor surrounded by chaos while your kid builds a tower with your never ending recycling boxes counts. You count—even when you feel like you’re barely holding it together.

Here’s to all the messy, beautiful, exhausting days. And here’s to the mums and dads who keep going, even when their energy’s running on crumbs and caffeine.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to ignore the dishes and watch something I’ll fall asleep to in 10 minutes. Or play some world of warcraft. Anything but what I should be doing.