The picturesque idea of being a mother, proudly holding your baby, gracefully prancing around in a wonderland of organic sensory goodness.
I was never going to moan, the perfect nursery would stay pristine, I mean…how much mess can a little baby really make? I’d have plenty of time to pamper my self while the baby slept and I’d love every day of my life without a care in the world and then all the experienced mothers laughed and laughed as my baby was born and reality gave me a good hard slap around the face.
So that time to pamper myself into a yummy mummy, turned into just 5 more minutes in bed, wondering if I could really get away with dry shampoo 6 days in a row and being grateful It was winter so I could get away with putting a jumper over my pyjama top.
The perfect nursery turned into dumping ground for my babies clothes, my clothes, my husband’s clothes, clothes that needed washing, it is basically a wardrobe where nothing is hung up and there is probably some important pieces of paper work in there somewhere, but they are too far gone in the abyss there’s no hope for them now.
How much mess can a baby actually make? Don’t ask me how but as soon as you have children, suddenly a bomb hits your house on a daily basis and even if you’ve cleaned it in the morning, by the evening it looks like a squatters moved in and brought some mates and a bulldozer with him and what’s even more amazing is as your children grow, so does the mess.
My organic, sensory filled life never really started, I breastfed, I bottle fed, now I have days where I wonder if a chocolate biscuit counts as a satisfactory breakfast. I do my best with teaching them their ABCs and 123s but sometimes the dishes haven’t been done in three days and the only one who can fix it is Paw Patrol by keeping my child quiet for 15 minutes.
It’s funny how you can go from being adamant your child will never watch TV, then feeling like you’ve won the lottery when they go from watching Peppa Pig that only last 5 minutes to Mickey Mouse Club House that is a whole….20 minutes!
Even though I’ve loved my children every day since they’ve been born I haven’t been happy every single day and that left me with enormous guilt, because I didn’t plan baby blues, postnatal depression and just the stress of every day life trying to keep a 2 year old alive that insists on eating everything chokable in sight (even stones from the garden…yea really!) but it’s all very real and really not that unusual.
I’m not the perfect parent I thought I’d be, there’s days we don’t get dressed, they eat chocolate, they’ve drank fizzy pop, they’ve sworn, I’ve willed them to just be quiet, I’ve considered giving them away to a passing stranger, I’ve covered the wet patch in the middle of the night with a towel, I’ve let them stay up past their bed time actually I’m not quite sure they even have a bed time anymore, I’m far from a perfect parent…but I love my children.
They are my babies, I’d do anything for them, I teach them everything I know, I learn new things to teach them, I give my everything to them and there isn’t a thought that enters my head that isn’t about them. I don’t feel like I’ve failed, I feel like this is real life, I’m not a perfect parent…I’m a real one.