Parenting really is a funny thing. Iv been thinking about it alot recently. It is a part of life for everyone, whether you are the parent or have of course been parented. There is a huge spectrum of parenthood and how everyone approaches the challenge. Make no mistake, it is a challenge.
Parenting blogs are a great example of how we deal with said challenge. There are the funny ones, laughing at the hard times. There are those who power through the difficulties by lovingly sharing their experiences. Then there are those who exude positivity. They are all fabulous blogs In their own right and after all variety is the spice of life eh.
Im not sure where I fall. My blog isnt solely funnies of shit hitting the fan, although it does, often. It isn’t just the loving mushy posts either, my kids are too annoying to be mushy all the time. Perhaps it is somewhere inbetween. A diary of the good and bad.
What I do know is I started my blog with a vow of honesty, and wrote posts such as The Other Side of Being Mum, which was an honest description of a particularly bad day and The Alternate Mummy Awards, documenting some epic #mumfails. Yet along the way somewhere I think I have started to get lost. I have surcome to the pressure of picture perfect parenting. I have started to give myself a hard time over things I perhaps wouldn’t have a few months back, it is what inspired my recent post Tomorrow I’ll Do Better. Fortunately many like minded bloggers came to my aid in reassuring me I was just being unduly hard on myself.
Ironically I am sat writing this post on my holiday veranda in the afternoon with the sun on my face and a nice cold suavigan blanc to hand, whilst my Nan and Co have taken my kiddies out for a few hours.
So here’s the issue with that last sentence. I am on holiday with my children yet I am revelling in a few hours alone time to do something I want. Not walk around the amusements for hours so the two year old can press buttons, or go round and round on the carousel or walk slowler than a snail as she pushes her toy pram everywhere. Out loud is this socially un-acceptable parenting? I have after all, declined to go out with the family to make sodding memories, I am drinking in the afternoon, alone, and I’m loving it. I am wincing as I type this because I know I am opening myself up to trolls from supermum and her kin.
So if you’re reading supermum and you didn’t like that perhaps this isn’t for you because this isn’t the first time I have dabbled in socially un-acceptable parenting.
I have been hungover more times than I care to remember.
I look forward to the day that Nanny and Grandad take the kids out for the whole day and I can do what I want when I want. Sometimes it even gets me through the bad days.
I look forward to bedtime. Especially during the witching hour.
I miss the freedom of child free life. The ease of getting in a car solo, the eating when you want, the going home when you want, the GUILT FREE state of being.
I miss holidays where I sunbathed, drank cocktails and went to bed late.
I miss eating in nice places. Well actually I miss eating for pleasure not necessity. Now eating out with two small ones can be such a fucking pain in the arse I’d rather not do it. Or at best go to your local, cheap, microwaved family friendly establishment.
I have called both my kids at some point, ‘a nightmare,’ ‘a knob’ and have moaned that they are ‘doing my head in’.
I have put the pillow over my head when being woken up for the umpteenth time and hoped they would just go back to sleep.
I have dispared and barked at Mr Tammy that ‘I am going back to fucking work cause I can’t put up with this shit all day’ when the constant screams, tantrums and calls for muuuummmmyyyy, when the toddler doesn’t actually want anything get too much.
I miss not worrying about my pelvic floor and my pre child figure.
I could no doubt go on.
There you have it a list of what I am quite sure is socially very un-acceptable parenting. Am I worried about hitting the publish button? Yes of course. I know this isn’t the sort of thing we say out loud. I would try to soften the blow by telling you how much I love my kids and how despite the trials and tribulations I still do the best by them. But really I shouldn’t have to. I know, and my kids know just how loved and cherished they are. I know that dispite my rant I wouldn’t change a thing. That’s all that really matters. Not what someone who knows very little about me and my family sat behind a screen thinks. It goes without saying that we all love our children, we would do anything in this world to protect them and to ensure they are happy and healthy. What doesn’t go without saying is the above. When parenting isn’t all Pinterest perfect or Facebook friendly and sometimes it just bloody isn’t. Even for super fucking mum.
So there you go a dip back into the honesty in which I started out. Eeek. At this point I normally ask for your opinion or an antidote that the post may have reminded you of. If however you just want to tell me that I am a bad person or horrible mother you can kindly keep your opinions and antidotes to yourself on this occasion. Thanks.