Since becoming a mother, I get the constant question, or rather statement from my non-mamma friends, “Are you loving being a mum?”
And it was only the other day that I rang up my old school to enquire about enrolling my children, that the receptionist asked me this exact question – or statement, I still haven’t worked it out. And everyone expects the same answer… ‘yes, loving it. It is amazing!’
But I needed to be honest. Because that is what I do. I told the receptionist, “well yes, but not every day”. If I was a fly on the wall at her office, I swear her jaw would have touched her knees. “You are the first person that has ever said that”, she told me.
And so I wonder, am I the only one that is this honest? Because there are days I don’t like being a mum. There are days when my children drive me up the wall and I don’t like the person I become. And there are days I wish I could be doing more of something else as opposed to the washing, the cleaning, the cooking, the folding of the washing, cleaning up toys, or trying to pat my baby back to sleep, or deal with a tantrum over not getting yogurt five minutes before dinner. Yes, there are moments, and even days, I am not enjoying motherhood, or my children for that matter. Dare I say it?
But I put on my happy and chirpy face for my non-mama friends because I really don’t want to scare them for their impending motherhood that they are so looking forward to. And I don’t want to scar their dream and fantasy. Because I was there once too. I had the exact same dream and fantasy; I dreamt of life with a child. The constant smiles, goos and gaas, cuddles and kisses. The gorgeous pink dresses I would put my daughter in. The smart checkered shirt I would put my son in. Who knew of the impracticality of these clothing? I didn’t care. It was just cute and gorgeous!
I didn’t imagine the forever nappy changing saga, sleep challenges, the flying pee, or the never ending poo, tantrum challenges, and even the thought of how I am going to toilet train a child. I mean, why would I?
But now, as a mumma to two gorgeous munchkins, I tell my non-mumma friends that there are days that are just flipping crap. Because I tell myself that everyone should be free to be honest and real. That motherhood is not rosey petals every day. And that if I don’t like my kids every second of every day, this is okay.
Because motherhood is about honesty; it is about being true to yourself while being true to your children. Motherhood is about experiencing the pain of stepping on Lego pieces, or the pain of having your hair pulled by a four month old. Motherhood is about letting go of all your inhibitions and need to control everything. It is a journey of ups and downs.
So this is what you tell that person that asks you about motherhood. Because you need to be honest to yourself, and everyone else around you too.
Or maybe this is just me?