"Dear Facebook mums, please shut up. Love, your entire friends list."

Hello Facebook mums.

Firstly, I want you to know I come in peace. I am not here to unnecessarily anger or upset you. Instead, I want to shed some stone cold truth.

You see we (the non-mums on your friends list) have been talking for some time now. We’ve been firing off expletive-laden insults under our breath, trying ever so desperately to not upset the new mothers in our newsfeed.

But it’s time.

"I want you to know I come in peace." (Image: iStock)

It's time to air our annoyances with you, Facebook mums, before we collectively have a rage blackout and die muttering the words, "nobody gives a flying crap it's Jackson's eight-and-a-half-week birthday, Jen. Do you want to know why? Because eight-and-a-half-week birthdays do not exist".

It's true - they don't. Look it up.

Nobody gives a toss that precious little Ava had her seventh Gymbaroo class today.


Or that Oliver ate a WHOLE CARROT.

Or that you've coordinated the twins' outfits. And it's only for the third time this week.

Let it be known that the "I'm __ weeks old today!" cards are generic at best, and tacky at worst. Unless you're telling us your tot has been put into primary school five years early, or just got the world record for crawling, or has opened a finger painting exhibition, there is no excuse for a weekly bloody achievement card.

Also, a post a day is just too much. We're installing a status quota of one post per week because YOU'RE ALL OUT OF CONTROL.

Your toddler eating a generic ice cream at a generic zoo just isn't newsworthy. We've already seen it from four other mums today, actually.

You're clogging up our feeds, and we don't appreciate it.

LISTEN: What's your parenting mantra? (Post continues...)

I sound like a total grouch, I know. Babies are cute! They have freakishly small feet! Their giggles sound like happy elves! You're just proud that Noah went on the swing! Blah blah blah.

And maybe I am a grouch - a grouch that loves you and wants to be your Facebook friend without feeling irritated and excluded.

Take it elsewhere. Start up a group with your family where you can share all the photos in the world of Charlotte tipping tomato sauce on her head - I'm sure your mother-in-law will love every single one.

But please refrain from bombarding our feeds with your daily parenting dribble. We love you, and we love your kids. But there comes a point where enough is enough.

Dial it back a bit, yeah?


Your entire friends list.