My husband and I had a face-draining, heart stopping, stomach churning moment with the kid recently. One that has imprinted a thought to the forefront of my mind. A thought that seems so obvious given that I am now a mother and together we are parents, but sometimes we forget this one thing, this one simple thing and that is, ‘responsibility‘. Our responsibility towards our child. This isn’t a dramatic story (I realise that I may have built it up slightly) but the situation was enough to make me stop and take stock, and sometimes as a parent a reminder is needed.
The words to this letter have whirling around my head for a while now my darling daughter, really since the day you were born, but the time hasn’t felt right to put those words down until now. I wanted to write you a letter at each birthday but I think this one alone will hopefully cover the last two years of your busy little life. I’ve got so many things to say to you, to tell you and to let you know about, but I’ll try to keep this simple and not prattle on too much. I’ll get the slushy stuff out of the way first, okay?
No amount of information or advice from friends or family really, truly prepared me for having a baby. I read every book going, did NCT and even did the free NHS classes too. I was a complete swot and asked lots of questions and wrote a whole heap of notes. All in preparation for becoming a ‘parent‘ (dun, dun, duuueeerrr!), I was ready I thought. But when my baby arrived, everything I’d learnt or read went out of the window. Funnily enough never at one point did I refer back to my trusty ‘notes’. The last thing you think about doing, during a 3am feed followed by a ‘poo-splosion’, is consulting your pages and pages of crap handwriting, you just have to wing a lot of stuff. Honestly there were some very confusing moments when my baby was new (often involving poo or sick) but I got through those dark times and hey presto, I came out the other side having learnt a new skill, wahoo! (to any potential or new parents, you will at one point be stood covered head to toe in sick, holding a baby also covered in sick and you literally won’t know where to start) Here are a few motherhood truths for you, a few things that I’ve discovered or learnt along the way.
Coffee, it’s wonderful stuff isn’t it. Dark, rich, velvety, milk-foamy, chocolate topped loveliness. Making and drinking it has become part of my daily, morning routine. It signals the start of my day and often gives me a much needed kick-start, especially if the kid has been up wailing in the night. A favourite past time of mine used to be sitting in coffee shops, watching the world go by *sigh* but those days are long gone. Nowadays, going out for a relaxed cup just doesn’t have quite the same appeal as it used to. A trip to a nice coffee shop now is actually a mission in itself, requiring tactical planning in advance. Something that was once so easy, can now be a tad stressful. After a recent visit to one establishment, I left with some serious top lip sweat, red faced and apologising to people as I went after the kid launched a muffin at someone, forced people to wave at her by shouting ‘alloo’ at them in her best Danny Dyer voice, she shrieked a lot as I attempted to remove my cake from her hands (her anger resulted in the muffin throwing) and she finished off by doing the crocodile death roll when I attempted to get her back into the buggy. I’m fairly certain I saw the entire shop heave a collective sigh of relief as I exited.
Oh, Christmas. Christmas was a bit of a funny one this year, unfortunately not the funny ‘ha ha’ kind. I’ll start by making brief apologies as this isn’t the cheeriest post to kick off with after festivities, but hey, that can’t be helped, your body doesn’t care about what day of the year it is. I’ve thought long and hard about putting this post out as it’s so personal, but I feel that it needs to be done, mostly for myself but also for any women out there who have experienced the same. Let me get to the point, a few weeks ago I was pregnant and now, well now I’m not. They say that writing can be cathartic, I’m hoping that’s the case for me.