Have you ever sat down and wondered whether you’re really cut of for this whole parenting thing? Raising a person and moulding them to turn out to be the best person they can be a not a serial killer that grows up hating and blaming their parents is an everyday, every hour, every minute battle. A juggling act of the highest degree.
To be honest, the idea of going out and partying never really appealed to me at all. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m 19 not 90 and I do like to go out on the odd occasion but this every weekend malarkey was never my thing. I always wanted to be a young mum with plenty of energy to run around and jump with over excited toddlers (what a joke that is! Energy is only in my vocabulary if is it’s following the words I, have and no!)
Being a mum is something I knew would always happen for me. I was always the one in the group that thought of living and enjoying life as being sat in front of the fireplace with the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling in he corner with my 20 babies smiling happily away (20?! yup, I was nuts!) when everyone else just thought about working or drinking or partying. I love being a mum. It suits me, and there’s really nothing at all that I would rather be doing more.
But damn it’s hard.
I don’t think I was ‘born to be a mum’ I think I just had a really big family where babies seemed to be popping out every 5 minutes and they gave really great cuddles, until they fussed, then an adult took over. Oh poor young nïeve me. And I really don’t like that phrase anyway. Doesn’t it just make those women that struggle to get pregnant and that struggle with pregnancy to question themselves? I don’t know. It just seems to me like a very self glorifying; self gratifying phrase. We’re all on this mostly amazing, sometimes crappy ride together and we’re all just muddling through soon our best – well I am anyway!