In all honesty, even I realise that the last blog post was somewhat rambling and disjointed. I haven’t really had the heart to write for a while, for personal reasons, and it was a tad tricky to get back into the swing of things.
It’s well into the summer holidays now and the other day, after treading on a small but bone-shatteringly painful object for the fifth time in the space of two hours, I began to ruminate on ideas for what I would call a parenting blog, if I had one:
- Standing on sharp objects.
- Standing on sharp objects, the sequel.
- Trying not to Swear.
- Tissue in the washing machine - woman loses her shit
- Where do all the odd socks go?
All somewhat mundane, huh? Scrolling through Facebook one night, my husband said to me:
“I get sick of all these parenting blogs.”
“I know.” I replied. “Anyone can write about how shit it is to be a parent.”
Of course it’s not all shit and I adore and am very grateful for my two little shits but being a parent can also be indescribably wearing, emotionally exhausting and somewhat thankless at times. I can see that many of the parenting blogs have sprung up to try and bring some much needed honesty and balance to the equation. Something to redress the ‘motherhood is beautiful’, ‘I don’t even remember the pain of childbirth, I was so grateful to hold my delightful little bundle’, narrative. I’m not saying that many women don’t feel like that - that blissed out, baby bath advert image of motherhood, just that for the section that don’t, it can be deeply distressing to feel that you don’t fit the mould.
The phrase that a lot of people bandied about, when my first child was a baby, was ‘Everybody else looks like they know what they’re doing’. And it’s true - if you’re in a certain frame of mind, all the other mothers seem so calm and capable, compared to the raggedy mess you feel yourself to be. I’ve always overthought everything I do and I can’t imagine why I thought motherhood would be any different. I had this bizarre, half-comedic, half-serious fantasy of myself as an earth mother when I was pregnant with the first one. I saw myself multitasking like a demon, answering the door with a baby clamped to one breast, mixing bowl under the other armpit. (Like I would have ever answered the door with my tits out!) I had a relatively easy first pregnancy and I remember saying to my husband that I couldn’t ever imagine my little baby making any noise! The reality of sleep deprivation, cracked nipples and relentless noise sent me teetering to the edge. I spoke to a friend of a friend about a writing project and he said to me; ‘Maybe do some work on it when you have some down time and I remember screaming inside ‘I have NO down time!!’
It used to really piss me off, when I was struggling to get pregnant, when women moaned about their children - how much poo they produced, how they fought with their siblings etc, but when I was in the midst of it, I understood. Nothing really prepares you for parenthood and in those early days I remember lying in bed and feeling like I was falling off the world.
For me, this phase didn’t last too long - around three months, but it would have been helpful to know that other women felt the same. I guess this is where the parenting blogs come in. You need someone to tell it like it is, I just don’t feel like that person should be me.
Perhaps the reason why I don’t write about parenting is the same reason I rarely publish pieces on politics - I don’t feel like enough of an expert. Yes I could tell you about nits and about nappies and about how even the best nappy, much like the best sanitary towel, can only do so much to stem the tidal wave of nature. I could tell you about school gate politics (shudder), bake sales, sports days and concerts but I think you’d probably get bored and I know I would. Motherhood is great but it’s very healthy to have other things to focus on - I certainly wouldn’t want to apply all my energy into writing about it.
Let’s face it, there are plenty of women already out there writing brilliant, reassuring and hilarious blogs on parenthood, you definitely don’t need another one from me.
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