First time mum/referee/ sleeve snot wiper to a wild toddler. Designated household bum changer. Blogging about this motherhood malarkey from a refreshingly honest and unfiltered perspective.

The Things We Think, But Don't Say.

I wanted to write, just to say, really. To be completely and utterly honest. That sometimes it sucks. That sometimes it feels like it will never get any better. 
That it's hard. It's really fucking hard - the sleep deprivation, the loneliness, the utter roller coaster of being a new parent.

I can honestly say I spent the first few months of motherhood living in a love bubble, utterly consumed by the overwhelming joy for my new little miracle, unaware of the reality that would hit once I sobered from the haze of post birth, and lack of hospital drugs.

Whilst slightly ashamed, I can admit I don't feel the overbearing love 24/7, I'm not the patient, hippy, chilled out mum I aspired to be and that at times, when I have a sitter, I can barely contain my excitement that I'll have a few hours to myself.

I can also concede...

That I feel frustrated because all I want is a day to myself without being smeared in drool and have the theme tune from Twirly Woos on replay in my head like a slow form of torture like that scene in The Walking Dead where they torture Daryl with Easy Street whilst he sits alone in a dark cell - an accurate representation. 
That I collapse in bed at night, utterly drained feeling the anticipation creep over me knowing that the battle of a teething, crying, inconsolable baby awaits, already beat.
The lurking of the day ahead that promises tears, tantrums and constant need for attention.
To explode with guilt with the fleeting thought that, sometimes, A LOT, of the time I really wish to just escape.
To miss the buzz of a Friday night knowing the stress of a work week is over, because the babysitter cancelled. To spend most days alone just you and your baby and feel the loneliness cripple.

To feel sad. Frustrated. Guilty.

I'm sometimes exploded with guilt, almost embarrassed actually when at times I silently wish, no BEG to be on a night out, consumed with drink and god awful dance moves. To stagger home at 4 am with the absolute promise of a killer headache and my head down the toilet the following morning but with nothing but a grin on my face with the flashbacks that occur from a night well lived.

To then peer down and see his little face beaming with nothing but adoration for me and feel that immediate smack in the face guilt for feeling that way.
To worry if perhaps, I can't be the mum he needs. That maybe I'm not cut out for this mum gig at all.
To look at other mum's who always look ready to strut the catwalk, don't have even an etch of a purple bag printed under their eyes, don't curse fuck under their breath at least one hundred times before 10 am and just always seem to have their shit together.

I won't lie....

That I miss a day where I don't have a screaming child in my arms as I hopelessly bounce him on my knee and sing knick knack paddy wack for the 10000th fucking time.
That I miss dozing off in the middle of a thrilling book instead of mindlessly humming Wind the Bobbin up until I finally crumple into an weary slumber and that I am absolutely sick of Mr. Tumble and his big spotty fucking bag that I have to endure endless re runs of from approximately 8 am till I'm banging my head off the wall. 
I miss having the freedom of doing what I want, when I want.
That I would love to just POP to the shops for a few bits and bobs. 
FYI, with a baby, you never get to just POP anywhere - It's a constant, I've packed like I'm very suddenly fleeing the country scenario but I've still somehow managed to forget something vastly essential. (always, always the fucking baby wipes!)
That if I step on one more tiny car, singing dog, or small object then they'll be flown head first over my balcony.
Sadly, to admit, I miss having friends that still check in, still call, still invite me on the regular Friday night out on the hopeful chance I have a babysitter.
To sometimes, just sometimes, miss my old life.

But I also can't deny.

That without him, I really don't know what dark path I could have went down. That he is the glue that stops me from crumbling.
That he has a roaring laugh that makes my cheeks ache with the smile it spreads across my face and waking up first thing in the morning not wanting to get out of bed, to then roll over and see the grin on his face and those big green eyes, melts my heart.
That he has lighted the fire in me I thought had long burnt out.
That I know he puts a smile on whoever he meets, that he will touch so many lives, and make so many laugh, and do such wonderful things.
That he is all the right to my wrong.
That he is my sunshine.

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