Oh boy what I know now that I didn't know back then as a first time, spanking brand new mumma; delving into the dark, murky depths of parenthoodville. 👶 Why does no one EVER tell you the truth? To be honest for me parenthood is like the most wonderfully painful, most happiest torturous experience I have ever known. The horror of the nappy change, the gruelling broken nights sleep, the 'WTF am I doing with my life' continual track playing over and over inside my head. Listen I love being a mother I really do, but it can be a killer at times. Right? Some days I feel like the hills are alive with the sound of music and other days I want to stick my head in the toilet. 😢 To date three boys have now checked out of my downstairs hotel and I am just gonna tell it like it is. We need to dispel the fudgy myth of the so called 'perfect mother'. Well now my boys are bigger boys; I am gonna do it; just tell you the truth. My mom truths earned from my mothering war wounds. My clandestine hacks and 'Top Secret' tricks of the mummahood trade! Oooh its all sounds a bit FBI(ish) eh? Well lets just call this post 'Mothergate'. 💼 Here we go with the OK dis n' dat!
👍 It's OK to put them in front of the television but make sure its relevant viewing of course, so probably not Homes Under The Hammer. Its also ok to restrain them with buggy straps so they have no choice BUT to watch the television in order to give yourself a break/go to the toilet/brush your hair/not go nuts/scratch your left buttock if you need to.
👍 It's OK (when they get sick) to feed them hoola hoops for tea if it preserves your sanity. Don't bother killing yourself to prepare a meal they are only gonna cry and whinge over and eventually spew up. Salty crisps are a lurgies staple in the Thompson household. On my tombstone I swear its gonna say 'HOOLA HOOPS SAVED MY LIFE' .
👍 It's OK to worry that you might make the same mistakes your parents made. You wont I promise. You will just make brand new ones of your own. However the bags of love you have for your bubbas will cover a multitude of sins. Promise.
👍 It's OK to feel like you aren't a perfect mother. They don't exist. If they do exist and you spot one of these 'perfect mothers' do not be fooled, they are robots with batteries up their- 🙊
👍 It's OK to want to do very VERY bad things to Mr Tumble 👴 when you have watched him for the 579th time this week (and I don't mean in a sexy way). BTW I know that emoji face thing doesn't look like Mr Tumble but its the nearest thing I could find on my medieval laptop so could we just go with it for now please.
👍 It's OK if you find yourself wandering aimlessly, in a daze, pushing a buggy (either with or without a kid in it really) around Morrisons buying shizz you don't need ie: a loofah stick/Stitchwork Monthly magazine/3 for 2 on After Eights/Pyrex anything - just to kill the ongoing waves of exhaustion and boredom of having small children at times. Husband: Darling that's the fourth loofah brush you have bought this week, are you OK?
👍 It's OK to want to shoot nice old ladies in Morrisons (always in Morrisons) who tell you to enjoy this time as it will soon go and cheer up and smile and something else about "enjoy them while they're young dear and don't look so unhappy dear blah blah blah...." BANG! 🔫
👍 It's OK to buy yourself quinoa AND a dairymilk so you feel like you have your shit together. That way you can preserve your smug paleo gluten free dietary righteousness but also give yourself a sodding break love.
👍 It's OK if you feel low at any point whilst raising little people. This is normal. All mothers go through this. We just don't talk about it. Even the perfect mother-robot types that don't want you to know they cried their eyes out on the bathroom floor last night with the tap running so the rest of the family wouldn't hear so as not to wake the baby. Again.
👍 It's OK to go to Macdonalds.🍟 Its always OK to go to Macdonalds. Remember love its for your benefit not theirs.
👍 It's OK to eat kids leftovers, cold, off their plates when you can't been bothered to cook (again) for yourself, when the little munchers have bulldozered your culinary morale and your husband is working late. Those at the bottom of the food chain (you basically love) are an endangered species and must eat what and whenever they can. This is called survival. If you feel bad just have an apple before bed to make it a balanced diet.
👍 It's OK to mutter naughty words under your breath when trying to leave the house with children. Every woman knows leaving your home with any number of little people in tow is the second most traumatic experience you will ever go through after childbirth. "Mummy what's a little funker?"
👍 It's OK to openly discipline your kid having a screaming tantrum in front of other observing shoppers but then secretly buy them something on the side (when you are tired and desperate obvs) to keep them quiet in the den of iniquity that is 'the supermarket' (yes, Morrison's again).
👍 It's OK to sneakily recycle yet another piece of your kids artwork and then console your guilt because well, you are doing a greater good by helping the environment aren't you? And then when they ask you where 'Timmy the space dog' made out of cereal boxes and bra straps is you say 'Yes mummy has put it somewhere very safe darling'.
👍 It's OK when you cant face going to yet another babygroup for fear that your brain may disintegrate and change into a liquid state that drips out from your left nostril onto your shoes and choose instead to sit in Costa with your little one. Costa can be an educational place too; you are teaching them about the origins of the coffee bean/fair trade culture; plus you are teaching them table etiquette at the same time. Result no? 🍵Also further kid creative stimulation may be ensured by some poundland plastic toot and is a great accompaniment to your coffee date. This may easily be purchased on your way to your nearest coffee shop in order to keep the kid quiet, I mean amused.
👍 It's OK to pretend you are fast asleep so you cant hear the kids when they call mummy (or muuuummmmmeeeeeeeee!!!!!!) and instead wait for your hubby/partner to get up and then pretend to come round in a sleepy daze (stumble a bit for added drama)... 💤 "what oh sorry ... oh did they wake up sorry....I was out for the count. You should have woken me darling didn't want you to have to get up." I personally have perfected this over the years. Hehe.
👍 It's OK to try and watch a juicy slither of This Morning and pacify them with a box of sugar free raisins and organic gluten free baby biscuits. Failing that a box celebrations/ KFC bucket should do it. 😉
👍 It's OK to agree with the mums at parenting groups/health care experts/online forums about controlled feeding/sleeping/nappy changing/number of times your baby should breathe but then totally make it up as you go along in the confines of your own home, because, well, you know your baby the best.
👍 It's OK to give them food from a jar (and yourself)
👍 It's OK to give them milk from a bottle (and yourself; but not milk, the stronger stuff)
Are you still on board with me on this Mothergate voyage of truth? Good good. Well now for a little bit of this...
👍 It's OK to roll around on the bed with your kids and have a laugh at the expense of 'getting on top of everything'. May I recommend 'Hulk Smash' whereby you the parent lie on the bed and they jump on you. 👊 May I advise placing a pillow over your head to avoid any serious brain damage. There is no such thing anyway called 'on top of everything'. Every time you climb the top of one parenting mountain and reach the summit (where you experience 2.4 seconds of being in control) the whole thing crumbles on top of you and you start again. There is no 'on top of it'. It's a parental myth.
👍 It's OK to stop doing jobs and listen to them read, or lie with them while they look at a book. Even if you fall asleep and make interested semi-enthusiastic grunting noises you are still together. They just want you there. Not stuff. Not a tidy house or an 'it' mum, just you m'lady.
👍 It's OK to have an imperfect life girlfriend with dirty dishes and unbrushed teeth (yours not theirs) but to have a perfect love for your kids. I remember the day I started to live my life again, when with counselling for PND I started to leave the beds unmade and cushions on the floor as part of my healing.
👍 It's OK to take shortcuts in order to have a happy mum and a happy baby/toddler/kid/teen. Fine. Listen to the professionals they are amazing. BUT the only professional that should be telling you what you or your baby/child needs is you!
👍 It's OK to say no to things, engagements and people that drain your energy to make sure you are a happy mama for you and your kids.
👍 It's OK to cut other women out of your life who make you feel rubbish and small and meh. ✅(Do that one soon ok.)
👍 It's OK to fight back at grumpy (gremlins in disguise I'm sure of this) passers by who comment on how you raise your kid, or tell you they are badly behaved/too loud/too excitable etc.... when they are just being kids. OR if they are perhaps a scrooge like looking man who tells you to get out of the library with your three little boys who are happily, but a tad noisily, looking for books. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT run out quickly with them and cry your eyes out in the street. Instead just shout back at the man! (and cry later at home like I did)
👍 It's OK to turn the world off. To just stop everything once and a while and just basically give yourself a break woman.
👍 It's OK to be proud of yourself. 👌 You made (and now have the petrifying responsibility of raising) an actual human???!!!???!! If not plural; HUMANS!!!!
👍 And finally........ it's OK. Yes all of it. Even when it doesn't feel like it, it will all come good in the end.
I wish I knew back then what I know now. I wish I had been kinder to myself and more forgiving of my mistakes. I never knew this supportive subterranean world of Mothergate existed back then. This breed of lovingly baddass, real, imperfect, messy, wonderful mothers who take a little shortcut once and a while. The fundamental crux of Mothergate is this 👉 don't try and be a perfect mother but be a real one. Be present for your kid. Yes you. Ms broken, happy, wonderful, imperfect YOU. Hoola hoops anyone?
Small Print Disclaimer: The writer takes no responsibility for the assassination of old ladies in Morrisons as a consequence of this blog.
The Big Fat Greek Mother with Son number one. Master Harrison aged 4 weeks. 2006.
