We've all been there, hiding in our bathroom downing a lukewarm cup of tea and eating as many kit-kats as you can before your tiny human realises that you are gone.
You've been up since 5am and you've watched Cebeebies, you've played endless games, you've read stories, you've sang songs and all before most people have even got out of bed. Your not sure how your even functioning as your little bundle of joy got up 7 times in the night. You can't remember the last time you drank a cup of tea that is hot or had a wee in peace. Then when your children finally let you have a shower that lasts more 5 minutes you feel like you've been to a 5* spa for the day. Everyone keeps telling you enjoy it while it lasts is goes so fast but to you it feels like it never ends. Everyday the washing pile gets bigger, your bank account gets smaller and your hormones take over. You may have just spent the last 10 minutes scrolling through Instagram looking at peoples holiday pictures, you know the kind where they are posing on the beach in a bikini and you take one look at yourself (still wearing your maternity jeans even though you had your baby forever ago but who's gonna know right?) and think why can't I look like that, as you shovel in another biscuit for the 10th time today (thats probably why you can still only fit in your maternity jeans).
Motherhood is hard going. Its sleepless nights, endless nappy changes, countless washing and most of all it can be extremely lonely. As you sit there watching Peppa Pig for the 100th time you have completely forgotten what adult company is like. You feel isolated and alone. You feel like no one else understands what its like, but they do. Little do you know in a house down the road there is most likely a mother longing for adult company, also suffering the same mind numbing children's TV programmes. Thats the thing though you two will probably never cross paths. The only time you meet other mums is when you drag yourself down to the local mummy and baby group at the church. You walk courageously down the street saying to your self maybe it will be fine, maybe ill make some friends I can go out for coffee with and moan about our significant others as we drink a latte and eat cake.
As soon as you walk in all eyes are on you (especially if you have a newborn). You hover awkwardly hoping someone will reach out to you but yet they don't. You scan the room. You have your dads standing in the corner talking about football, you have the mums who have known each other from secondary school in the other corner talking about past times and then you have that group of mums in the corner, the ones you envy. The ones you are secretly hoping let you join their little click. You know the ones I mean that drive Range Rovers and turn up in their gym clothes looking fabulous. I mean who even has time to work out when they have kids, I barley have time to brush my teeth. Then theres me who stumbles in with a mum bun, a pair of leggings I have worn too many days in a row (how many days can oneself wear the same pair of leggings for? As I think I have set a new record) covered in baby sick. You stay until the end to be polite and then you make a run for the door and think thank god thats over that was pretty shit.
You return home and look at the mess everywhere. You look at the sink full of dishes, you attempt the mass of laundry overflowing in the wash bin. Then you hear your child says 'mummy i'm getting out the Lego' and think why the Lego of all things? Because you know full well they are going to empty the whole box on the floor and then say they need 'help' to tidy it all up when in reality you will end up doing it by yourself. At that point its when you admit defeat. You think fuck it. You get changed into your onesie, you take off your make up and let down your hair. You forget about the house work. You forget about everything and you sit down and watch your little one playing. You begin to smile. You created this life and you never knew how much you could love a little tiny human... And then they say 'mummy I have wee'd myself' and you think to yourself you little shit.
After what feels like centuries your partner finally comes home. You feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. Your child runs towards them excitedly and gives no shits for you now the 'fun' parent is home. You collapse in a heap on the sofa and you partner walks in and said what have you done today ? Looking at all the mess and thats when you say 'I don't actually know but i'm exhausted...'
The Honest Mum xox
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