First Entry

After a bit of thinking, discussion, and conjecture with friends and family, I have decided to create this blog. If you were to ask me my chief aim in so doing, I would reply that I am heartily fed up with all of those Smug Mums out there (who will from now on be referred to as SMs) who regularly use expressions such as:

"Raising my child/ren is an absolute joy twenty-four hours a day"

"My child/ren is/are the most important and validating thing I have done with my life"

"There is nothing as amazing as my child/ren and I will always love them forever no matter what"

"Being a parent is the most profound/wonderful thing you could ever experience"

By sharing my "true mothering tales" I hope to offer a perspective different to the cliched nonsense we are consistently subjected to, and give hope to other mothers out there who do not wish to speak up for fear of censure or dismissal. I'll tell it all, and it won't always be pretty.

So here you are, a little bit of me and my truth for your amusement, perusal and digestion. You may not like it, you may think me detached, dispassionate or uncaring. All I can say is that everything I post here will be true. No holds barred, no "politically incorrect" topic left out. Of course I welcome your comments and feedback, but any harassment or abusive contact will not be tolerated. Happy reading!

To get things started for this, my first entry, I would like to share ten things I have learnt in the last eleven months:

1. Yes, my child is very cute, but when he has screamed at me for more than two consecutive hours and will not be held/put down/played with/fed/changed/talked to or calmed in any way, he is NOT my favourite person.

2. Popular theory apparently tell us that women are more "attuned" to babies crying than men. Fine, for argument's sake I'll let that one go. That does not mean that your partner cannot be taught. If he won't get up/respond to/feed etc the baby, either kick him until he rolls out of bed and does it, or declare you are going grocery shopping and leave him to deal with it. Husbands/Partners/Dads will soon figure out which cry is which and what to do about it. Continually repeating yourself will be necessary, but they'll get it. Make the Nursery "Mummy's Provence" at your peril.

3. Baby Brain. To my surprise and displeasure this is not in fact a myth. I have forgotten to pay bills, defrost dinner, eat at all during the day, and at the end of one particularly harrowing week, I realised I had not had a shower in five days. Yep. Five. Days. Forgetting to put something on the grocery list, or leaving the house without the grocery list altogether are also both regular occurrences.

4. I made it 30 years without ever getting vomit in my hair. EVER. I am not that kind of girl. Since the arrival of my son I have shampooed vomit out of my hair four times, and out of the cat once. Clothing, bedding, furniture, rugs and floors have all become acceptable casualties to vomit, but my hair - that will NEVER be ok.

5. The amount of washing for a baby doesn't seem to have demonstrably increased the washing I was already doing, which has led me to conclude two things - the first being that I am more obsessive about clean clothes than most people, and the second being that my husband is just as messy as a baby, and therefore generates just as much dirty laundry.

6. Even people who are not parents are more than willing to judge you and/or give you their unwanted advice and opinions once you are visibly pregnant. This becomes exponentially worse after you actually have the baby.

7. Having spent most of my life with animals of all kinds, and a great deal of my life professionally training horses, I can say that there is some cross over - some of the same principles do apply in different situations. The tone of my voice for example. My baby will stop what he's doing immediately if I say his name in a stern tone of voice, and will also respond beautifully when we are just having a chat. Same deal with my horse/cat/dog. My husband takes it amiss, however, when I whistle or click my fingers to get our child's attention. That, apparently, is "crossing the line".

8. SMs (Smug Mothers) LIE. Yes, in capital letters and all. I am an intelligent, educated person, and if you want me to believe that all is roses and fairies and games (oh my) you are forgetting that I have a baby too, and I KNOW you are full of something with which I could fertilise my vegetable garden.

9. The good moments come VERY close to making up for the difficult hours with my son.

10. Routines are important, it's true (and those near and dear to me do know how a lack of a plan or routine can sometimes send me into a minor tailspin) but babies will lull you into a false sense of security for a couple of weeks, and then change everything entirely. I have attempted to be consistent where I can, (meal times, bed time) but other than that, we just roll with it and do what is necessary. This flexibility has tested my particular brand of obsessive compulsiveness to its absolute limit.