My daughter is my best mate. She’s cheeky, chaotic, kind, hilarious — and, let’s be honest, an absolute whirlwind wrapped in rainbows and Bluey stickers. One minute she’s draining my entire life force, the next she’s making me laugh so hard I forget how tired I am.

She’s my sunshine.

And still… I often feel like I’m not quite cutting it.

It’s not the parenting part that throws me (well, not just that). It’s the social side of parenting that sends me into a bit of a meltdown.

She’s still in nursery, but starts school this September. (Queue the tears.) And apparently, with school-age children comes a full calendar of Very Important Social Events for parents.

We’re talking:

• Bake sales
• Stay and plays
• Coffee mornings
• Easter/Summer/Whatever-season fayres
• Birthday parties (every weekend, it seems)
• Parent career days (hi, I work with websites… and anxiety?)

And that’s just one term.

I honestly don’t know how other parents do it all. Do they snack on energiser batteries? Have secret clones? A time machine?

Meanwhile, I’m over here holding it together with dry shampoo and a prayer, trying to balance full-time work, family, basic hygiene, and maybe five minutes of peace every now and then.

So no, I don’t make it to every school event. I try. I really try. But most of the time, I’m already socially maxed out just existing.

When I do show up, I usually end up hovering awkwardly on the edge of a conversation, sipping lukewarm coffee and wondering if anyone else is secretly dying inside too.

Small talk isn’t my thing. Mingling makes my brain short-circuit. And making new mom friends? Honestly, I’d rather wrestle a toddler on no sleep (and I have).

But I keep going — not to win any Mom of the Year awards, but because I love that little human more than anything. She deserves a mom who shows up in her own weird, quiet, introverted way.

So here’s to all the socially awkward, introverted, “doing-their-best” parents out there.

You don’t have to be the loudest in the room.

You don’t have to be everywhere, all the time.

You just have to love them fiercely — and that, my friend, you’re already nailing.