Becoming a mother.

5 years ago today I started my motherhood journey, here is some of what I’ve found becoming a mother actually means…..

We all have this vision of what we expect motherhood to be, picnics in the park, coffee mornings with other mummy friends, baking and decorating beautiful muffins with our children and fun family outings full of smiles and laughter; the reality of motherhood in fact somewhat differs.

Becoming a mother often means functioning on very little or no sleep, aimlessly walking, dazed and confused through parenthood in a zombified state; somehow managing to wash, dress and feed our small people whilst having no real recollection of having done so.

It means never again being able to wee in peace, even when the small army of mini people you have created get bigger and no longer feel the need to have eyes on you every waking minute of the day, you will find them pulling impatiently at the door handle you so selfishly locked, poised with suspicious intent ready for the moment you unlock that door.

Somehow still managing to get fat despite living on a diet of leftover sandwich crusts usually minus anything that resembles a sandwich filling, stale or soggy wotsits and half eaten biscuits, never really owning up to the fact it’s probably more likely you are fat from shamefully hiding in the utility room smashing the family sized dairy milk bar you hid from the little people behind the milk.

It means never sleeping alone…… again……ever. The whole image of a beautiful woman cradling her child whilst co-sleeping are a con and most definitely not reality. The more realistic version is being kicked in the back whilst the large squad of teddy bears your child also bought into your bed attempt to smother you whilst you try and sleep. It means enduring the death breath your little toxic crusader shares with you when they roll over to your side of the bed; I personally swear this is a tactic to ensure they secure maximum bed space.

Your morning shower resembles a day at the zoo with the little people lined up at the glass watching and waiting just in case you try to evade them through the secret passage at the back of the shower.

It means retracing the days of the week to jog your memory on the last location of your hairbrush and in doing so realising it may well have been 6 or 7 days since you actually last brushed your hair, which is probably the main reason your son lovingly refers to your hair as resembling a “dead tree”.

It’s about taking the plunge and booking into that luxury hotel for a much needed night away from your children who have been running you ragged and driving you insane only to find out five minutes after arriving at the hotel that you miss them so much that you don’t think you can cope with being away from them any longer; how does that even work?!

Most importantly it’s about remembering that from here on, silence is no longer golden but more something to be feared, a silent child is often a child up to no good!

In my opinion despite all this Motherhood is most definitely the hardest job you will ever love!