She knows exactly what she is doing. As
bleeping dumb and moronic as it is, she wants to portray the image of this exhausted “full time”
mummy to three girls who’s making it through each day her husband is away working offshore.
She has Safiyah, the eldest, sensitive child who’s quite happy off living in her own daydream world with her colouring pens and book.
She’s got Florence who’s this delicate, girly princess. Loves wearing a tutu and has the long rapunzel hair everyone loves.
Then she’s got Poppy, the feral toddler who does as she pleases, keeps them up all night and rules the roost.
That’s her “characters” in her story. It’s really sad isn’t it, but this is the way she’s presenting her children to the whole world.
She doesn’t do class parties for her children’s birthdays because 1) she probably wouldn’t get it gifted to her so would need to put her hand in her pocket 2) she would have to engage with mere mortal parents of said children 3) those parents wouldn’t be the best buddies bestest pals best mates best friends you’ve ever had in your whole entire best lives 4) it wouldn’t be about her, it would be about her child and she can’t share limelight with anyone, not even her own offspring - however for Florrie she’ll make the odd exception
Safiyah and Poppy will be seeking counselling when they are older, I would put my house on it.