Being a mum…

15975066_10154823881069034_4305127683688404129_oIt can almost be quite scary and overwhelming, the maternal love that you feel for your child. No one prepares you for it, and there’s nothing that you won’t do for them. Birth is messy, basic and animal, the shitty nappies and feeding struggles are hardly romantic, but it is the very first time you properly fall in love with another human being.

That sexy feeling you thought you had before you had kids (he’s the one, what should I text back etc etc) was just the starter, with motherhood being the main course. Up until you become a mum you never properly realise, and with my own family not being massive ‘I love you’ sayers,  it sometimes goes unsaid, apart from the kisses in a birthday card, or a whispered ‘I love you’ to sleepy head. Why is is so difficult to say you love someone? The moments it engulfs me most are when they are asleep, (hardly surprising!) but it gets harder to say when you get dogged down with the daily grind.

I hope my actions show love, a clean home, nice food, exciting holidays, a story before bed each night. Things I moan about doing, and are obvious and hardly special, but are done with love, even though there is a dull rigmarole around the whole busyness of bath time,  bad behaviour and the battles at bedtime and the fact its repeated each night does take the shine off of it. Little things that can get taken for granted, but shouldn’t get overlooked.

It’s easy to talk about the annoying things about having kids, you don’t want to be THAT PARENT who thinks their kid is amazing, plus there’s a sort of solidarity about how hard motherhood is thats fashionable at the moment, and easy to find common ground and empathise when talking to other mothers. It is is hard, and I’m grateful for anything that gets women talking openly and honestly about their struggles, rather than thinking everyone has the perfect life…but while a part of me would rather be out having after work drinks with friends, a’la pre-kids, another part of me loves re-reading Roald Dahl at bedtime, practising phonics with Biff, Chip and Kipper (yep, they’re still going strong!) and filling in the letter slips that come home from school – this weirdly makes me feel like a proper, actual adult!

The boys won’t remember each regular, run-of the -mill boring day, as they kind of just merge into one don’t they? Well, my childhood seems too! But I want them to know that the love is there and always will be, even though I might not say it out loud as much as I should do.




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