Super Mum?

stacey mum cover 12


Have you ever had to repaint an entire room because your daughter likes to draw on walls?  Only to have her draw on the new paint within a matter of days?

I have.

Have you ever had to scrub another person’s bathroom because your other daughter didn’t quite make it in time, and thought the best idea was to smear it on the walls and toilet seat?

I have.

All I ever wanted was to be a mum.

Turns out, it’s not quite what I imagined it to be.  I’m not that perfectly dressed, refined mother who’s always portrayed on TV.

No.  That’s not me.

I make mistakes.  My children aren’t perfect.  In fact, they can be downright devilish at times.

And I have three of them.  Three!

What the hell was I thinking?




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So I was supposed to post this review last night and then what happened? I fell asleep whilst trying to put my child to sleep. So, when I read about the main characters and her 2am conversations with her child, I just knew; this woman gets it!

Super Mum is an accurate depiction of life with children. Every chapter is a new day, bringing hilarious banter and even funnier predicaments. My favourite thing about this read is knowing that I’m not alone. The struggle is VERY REAL and Broadbent knows it.

Underneath all the humour, the sleepless nights and the memorable bowel movements is a woman battling between her head and her heart. Struggling with sleep deprivation, financial constraints and missing that one on one time with her spouse – Broadbent writes about life.

For a short, funny and refreshing read, Super Mum is a great pick me up. A reminder that there is no such thing as perfection, but rather that the beauty of family is all the imperfections.



Let me paint you a little picture:  You know that awkward person at parties who gravitates to the corner where all the food is?  That’s me.  While everyone else is mingling and enjoying themselves, I’m stuffing my face with an entire tray of canapes, trying to suss out who is the safest bet to strike up a conversation with.  Will it be the slurring drunk at the bar?  The group of cackling women across the room?  The hippy-esque dancer on the dancefloor who is in their own little world?  Who is less likely to laugh at me if I say something stupid?  Who looks as though they could happily carry a conversation without my having to input much at all?

It’s not as if I have nothing interesting to say, I mean, I think I’m as interesting as the next person, I just have trouble making the words in my head come out of my mouth.  It’s like every knowledgeable piece of information I have, has somehow escaped me, and I can’t manage to string a simple sentence together.  I don’t appear to have the ‘small talk’ gene.  I think it skipped me and went straight to my sister – now that girl is never lost for words.  I wish I could be more like her, but I’m not.  I am me.



Stacey lives in Ashburton, New Zealand, with her husband and three children.  She is a qualified proof-reader and self-proclaimed book-a-holic, hence the reason behind her book review blog “Stayc’s Book Blog”.

When she isn’t busy reading or writing, she likes to dabble in the kitchen and spend time with family and friends.

Stacey has released two other novellas, Dancing in Circles, and Dancing Through the Storm, along with her apocalyptic novel Fear the Fever.

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