Number One bestselling author Gill Sims is back with her eagerly awaited fourth and final Why Mummy novel. I just wanted them to stop wittering at me, eat vegetables without complaining, let me go to the loo in peace and learn to make a decent gin and tonic. It genuinely never occurred to me when they were little that this would ever end – an eternity of Teletubbies and Duplo and In The Night Bastarding Garden and screaming, never an end in sight. But now there is. And despite the busybody old women who used to pop up whenever I was having a bad day and tell me I would miss these days when they were over, I don't miss those days at all. I have literally never stood wistfully in the supermarket and thought 'Oh, how I wish someone was trailing behind me constantly whining 'Mummy, can I have, Mummy can I have?' while another precious moppet tries to climb out the trolley so they land on their head and we end up in A&E. Again. Mummy has been a wife and mother for so long that she's a...

Family begins with a capital eff. I'm wondering how many more f*cking 'phases' I have to endure before my children become civilised and functioning members of society? It seems like people have been telling me 'it's just a phase!' for the last fifteen bloody years. Not sleeping through the night is 'just a phase.' Potty training and the associated accidents 'is just a phase'. The tantrums of the terrible twos are 'just a phase'. The picky eating, the back chat, the obsessions. The toddler refusals to nap, the teenage inability to leave their beds before 1pm without a rocket being put up their arse. The endless singing of Frozen songs, the dabbing, the weeks where apparently making them wear pants was akin to child torture. All 'just phases!' When do the 'phases' end though? WHEN? Mummy dreams of a quirky rural cottage with roses around the door and chatty chickens in the garden. Life, as ever, is not going quite as she planned. Paxo, Oxo and Bisto turn out to be highly...

Tis' the season to get trollied! Mummy has always loved Christmas. Sure, the kids turn into demons, the dinner gets burnt to a crisp and Aunt Louisa's general staggering inappropriateness sends Mummy reaching for the nearest maximum-strength festive tipple, but nevertheless, for her, Christmas is always special. This year, she wants nothing more than to perfectly fig up the pudding and sit by the fire reading aloud from A Christmas Carol to a rapt, rosy-cheeked audience. But, just like all Mummy's best-laid plans, this year's Festive Vision is in danger of being totally derailed by her chaotic family. There's not much chance of any action under the mistletoe, and the kids are just not playing ball. Can Mummy find her silver lining after all and bring the whole family together for one moment of harmony, so they can finally proclaim 'Verily You Are the Queen of Christmas'? Or should she get stuck into the festive spirits and just let it all go?

No.1 bestselling author Gill Sims is back with her eagerly awaited sixth Why Mummy novel. When family life gives you lemons, trade them for grapes! Mummy Ellen is on a well-earned sabbatical from work, and she has A Vision. She is going to cherish *every* moment this holiday with her Precious Moppets Peter and Jane, alongside her ride-or-die best friend, Hannah. There will be wicker baskets! Vintage bicycles! Pink sunshine wine! And not an electronic babysitter in sight. But as she strives for her picture-perfect "Ultimate Family Summer" in the sun-kissed bliss of her almost-chateau, reality crashes the party. With small feral hell-beasts to keep alive on the daily, and Hannah suddenly and mysteriously MIA, wine o'clock gets earlier and earlier as each day crawls by. Can she keep The Vision alive without resorting to nightly beige 'freezer tapas' (aka guilt-flavoured chicken nuggets)? Or will she reach the end of her Gentle Parenting book and her tether as her dream holiday...

It's time for a w(h)ine "God, she's funny" – Jilly Cooper 'Oh, for f*ck's sake' muttered Claire under her breath, as she opened the fridge to see what she could find for a no effort dinner. The children continued to fight behind her. They regarded any form of fish not encased in breadcrumbs as toxic, and were resistant enough to the delicious homemade fishfingers Claire had made for them, insisting they much preferred Captain Birdseye's version. White wine was starting to look like quite an appealing dinner actually. Maybe just a small glass. 'Are you having wine, Mum? You know you're not supposed to have wine every night. We did about alcohol units at school. That's quite a big glass of wine, how many units do you think are in it?' 'Bet the bastards didn't tell you that wine is remarkably good at cancelling out whining though, did they?' muttered Claire. Claire's family has gone nuclear. Her precious moppets keep calling Childline when she feeds them broccoli, she's utterly...