I’ve long bemoaned the fact that I don’t get enough sleep. It’s only within the last 4 months that both my children have started sleeping through the night (it’s horrifying this has taken so long) and they are early risers, too: Elfie was up at 5.45am this morning. Heavy sigh.
I finally realised how under-represented single parents are in our society when I last upgraded my iPhone’s OS. The Emoji keyboard updates caused celebrations on Social Media because AT LAST! Alternative families were finally represented in teeny tiny cartoon form.
One of my favourite people on Twitter is MammyWoo, firstly for her hilarious Tweets but also for her VERY accurate profile: I used to be cool, then I had a baby. Now I wee when I sneeze…
Because it’s true. When you have children so many weird and wonderful (but mostly not so wonderful) things happen to your body and you know what? They don’t get spoken about.
I always made the assumption that motherhood would come quite easily to me. By way of being a woman, maternal instinct just happens, yeah?
Imagine my surprise when upon giving birth I realised that the simple act of pushing a child out of one’s hoo hah (or sunroof) does not a mother make.
There was a time when I used to dread the summer holidays just a little bit (or a lot). Acres of days stretching ahead of us with endless time to fill – it terrified me.
In the last few weeks I’ve noticed a trend in the world of parent blogging.
Not between bloggers, but bloggers calling their children names. An arsehole, a wanker, a shit. We have a new wave of parent blogs ‘keeping it real’ by being, in my opinion, kind of awful.
I feel so very lucky to be a mother. It might not have happened in the ‘right’ way (at 24 I felt like a teenage mother) and I perhaps haven’t ended up in the ‘perfect’ family situation, however these two little people are my absolute world.
But I find that it’s so easy to get lost in the motherhood fug and forget how fortunate I am to be a parent.
When I moved house almost two years ago post-separation I got a bit sniffy about downsizing my home. This was in the days when I believed that the size of your house was directly relevant to your happiness, you understand, and not because I was a massive insufferable snob back then (HONEST).