Motherhood – warts and all
So motherhood – it’s a wonderful thing, filled with sleepless nights, bountiful amounts of love and haemorrhoids.
Many things happen to us in motherhood – many we don’t even think about, many we don’t even know about until it happens. Well here’s a summary of some of the things that signify you are well and truly rocking motherhood.
The first tell tale sign if you’ve had a vaginal birth is a battered swollen vag. That’s right ladies, no amount of lustful pounding is ever going to prepare you for what you will feel after a small human has exited through your foof. It will be tender, it will be swollen, whatever you do don’t look. I promise the swelling will go down and the sting of having a wee will subside if you have been blessed with a tear.
Mind you the first post birth poo – jesus it feels like if you push your whole insides are just going to rock out as well – don’t worry, they don’t. Make the most of the bran flakes and weetabix and stay away from the white toast – it tastes good but your ass will not forgive you.
Following on from that is the insane level of tiredness that you will endure. Now try not to go all psycho when your other half exclaims that they’ve been up all night, and that they have a busy day ahead and that they need their sleep. Not only are you not sleeping but are also in charge of a small mewling helpless being. Having to decide whether to pee, eat or shower when the baby sleeps is going to be an ongoing battle. shovel a chocolate bar down, do a pits and bits once over with a baby wipe and sleep when the baby sleeps – believe me you’ll be kicking yourself when they are three years old and running rings round you and you just want five minutes. Have those 50 winks, shower when t’other half gets home and binge eat at night – you’re going to be up all night anyway so may as well fuel yourself.
Motherhood is blessed with the amazing expectation that you can do it all, and some days you will. You will be up dressed, fed, CLEAN – yes I know and out of the house having put a load of laundry on and dinner in the slow cooker. Other days you will be bouncing off the walls eating three day old Cheerios found down the side of the sofa or escaping to shovel snacks into your face whilst the monsters are momentarily occupied. Either way is absolutely fine, you can rock it some days and wing it the other. Your kid does not give a flying rats ass if they have a plethora of organic home baked snacks or whether you’ve given them a bag of Wotsits – actually I take that back they will notice…and they will clamour after more Wotsits with their orange greedy paws like demonic possessed cheese gremlins.
As a mother you may feel you have to attend every possible baby and toddler group to ensure your child becomes the next genius – you don’t, to be honest you’re only going because it’s a welcome distraction and you may actually have some adult interaction with another being who has also produced a small human. But don’t feel like you have to go. Find your mama tribe and relax and let it go – fresh air will be your friend – it will knacker the terrors out and they may just nap, it will also blow away those sleep deprived cobwebs that are slowly driving you insane….plus you feel justified in eating that chocolate later on because…you know….you went outside and all that.
Now I don’t know whether this motherhood related per se but with all the not sleeping, not showering as often as you may wish, mum bunning your way through each day, when you do come to tackle grooming, you may be faced with random growth that has sprouted from absolutely no where. Now the mum bush we can tame, a bit of topiary never did anyone any harm, the legs – a few razors on those bad boys and you’re good to go but where the f@$k did random toe hair come from???? What on this earth is going to require hobbit toes – seriously what?? So not only do you have bikini lines to prune and legs to shave you have toes to pluck!!! I mean come on – we have enough on our plate right.
So we are sleep deprived, hairy, smelly, mum bunned mamas desperate for adult interaction and something to occupy the smallest beings all while cooking up an organic storm and folding laundry until the cows come home and then we have to deal with mundane toddler conversation and endure the wrath of a pissed off threenager who’s been given the snack in the blue bowl that they asked for – you just didn’t serve it correctly. Motherhood is adhering to the demands of small tyrants, being able to mindread to know which way to slice an apple and to know that today’s sandwiches have to be cut into squares, whereas as yesterday’s sandwiches were triangles. If you do not follow the strict toddler guidelines then they may just shit themselves in protest – and they will look you in the eye whilst they do it. Can you imagine if we did the same. Your boss gives you a shit deadline and you just stare them in the eye and crap your pants in protest – sure way of getting yourself locked up, but it would certainly be a protest of epic proportions.
Motherhood is watching a million emotions unfold in front of your eyes in a 5 second window and then also feeling the whole span of emotions yourself when you venture from pissed off rage as your child wakes you for the umpteenth time in the night, only for them to peel back your eyelids as they declare the sun is now up on the sodding gro-clock, despair as yet another box of cheerios is poured all over the floor as your children scrabble to eat them as if they were zombies ravaging entrails, to pride as these sweet darlings show off their skills as they dress themselves and brush their teeth – only to flip back to despair as you realise they have decided to help clean by using your toothbrush in the toilet. You make it through the day thinking you can’t go on like this, you’re sure to be in the loony bin by the end of the week and then as soon as they are asleep you stand and stare lovingly at the little creatures you have created – and all the shit washes away….
…..unless you’ve still got to scoop up a turd – a warm turd floating proudly in the bath! Yes this will happen, and yes you won’t even flinch – you’ve dealt with enough fecal matter and urine you can recognise which child has shat themselves based on their own personalised poo smell.
As we are on the topic of toileting behaviours, motherhood is spending the first few years of your child’s life either holding a child whilst you go about your business, have ‘helping hands’ who want to aid in the wiping procedure or being summoned to ‘wipe my bottom’ as you discover they have smeared excrement all up their back in an attempt to wipe. Never did you think going to the toilet would be a group activity – nor did you contemplate having to discuss the ins and outs of evacuating ones bowels….in public – as strangers snigger in the background.
Motherhood is many things, tiring, hair raisingly crazy, funny, raging, did I mention tiring – it’s a constant roller coaster of thinking ‘what the fuck….’ whilst simultaneously whispering to your beloved child to ‘fuck right off’ as you contemplate whether you were inseminated with the spawn of the devil. But amongst all that it’s pretty great – in those instagrammed soft filtered moments.