Of course they tell you that your life is going to change. That you’ll never feel such love…. All that schmaltz.
What they neglect to say is that for every ounce of love there is a whole bucket of crap you get to endure too. Here’s the insiders guide to the stuff nobody tells you. Probably because you might not have a kid if they did… #mumtruths
It starts before you really even get to hold the babe in your arms if we’re honest. Pregnancy is not all about glowing skin. It’s pimples, constipation, stretch marks, insomnia, vomiting and resembling a whale.
Then once that baby is out you get to endure stitches and that first horrific poo. (Yours, not theirs!) More lack of sleep and the sudden realisation that you are wholly and solely responsible for another tiny creature’s well-being and will never be alone again.
Not only are you new to this mum thing, but everybody is judging you and has an opinion on how you should be doing it. If you dare to tell them to ‘eff off then you must be struggling… The nod and smile is a fabulous way to deal with this, by the way. It says eff off without offending anyone or finding yourself being labelled mentally unstable.
You know those long relaxing baths or showers you used to enjoy?
Remember them well; they are now truly a thing of the past! Nothing says love like a full blown argument about the TV remote, held right there in the bathroom while you have a head full of foamy shampoo. You’ll never forget the first time you find yourself jumping out of the shower naked, wet and slippery to disengage wrestling siblings.
Oh sleep ins.
How good were they? Were? Or actual deep unbroken sleep? It is common practice for a four year old to wake you at 3 am to tell you their foot is itchy. *Sigh* Don’t ever expect real sleep to happen again. If your kids do actually happen to sleep past 7 am by some pure miracle… you’re going to wake up well before then wondering why it’s so damn quiet and have to get up to investigate. And that’s on the days you’re not woken up by World War Kids who are instantly hangry and vociferously arguing over Minecraft territory.
Forget it. Shaving your fanny with an audience is just not fun. Especially when they’re full of a thousand questions as to why you’re doing that in the first place, followed by disgusted looks. Wanna pluck those hairs from your chin too? Again with the questions, and the getting too close and the bumping your elbow mid pluck. This week as we’re away on a family ‘holiday’ I went to shave my underarms only to find the kids had shaved the soap with my razor. There is no such thing as ‘privacy’ and what’s mine is always theirs. God forbid they see you doing any of the above mentioned they will talk about it. To anyone. Loudly. Most likely in the line at the bank.
Speaking of Holidays…
Lovely relaxing moments laying on the beach, leisurely coffee, dining out and sunset summer walks. *Insert slightly maniacal laugh here* Nope, not gonna happen. Picture instead sand in everything. Crying, overtired tantrum-throwing children. Many Band-Aids on many scraped knees, ankles, toes and elbows. Hastily scoffed coffee to try to wake you up after lack of sleep, the same if not more washing, refusals to eat and whingey walks where you try to tire them out because all they really want to do is go back to your accommodation and play iPad. Don’t even think about taking them out to dinner unless the restaurant has a playground. Even then someone will have to supervise. You know the truth about family holidays with kids? Same shit, different location.
Don’t even get me started on gastro.
If they get it, your little bundles of poo and vomit will pass it on to you too. There’s nothing better than cleaning up someone else’s sick when you can barely make it three feet from the toilet yourself. The family gastro-splosion is truly when you’ve arrived at the seven circles of parenting hell.
But Here’s the Thing You Will Also Learn.
The rare moments of gratitude and adoration you receive. Those proud moments of success you get to witness. The cuddles, kisses and I love you’s… they really do make the crap, the tears and even the spew all totally worth it. The fact that you are never truly going to be alone again? That can totally be a good thing too.