I knew having kids would mean there would be difficult days, days where I was frazzled and they were crying. I knew that it wasn’t going to be plain sailing. On some level I knew that being a mum was going to be hard. I just never realised how hard it was going to be.
No one ever told me that it would be that hard. I mean, I knew being a mum was going to be hard, but I didn’t think it would be this hard….
I knew sleep deprivation would hit, that there would be nights of me dragging myself out of bed to breastfeed my newborn back to sleep, then dragging myself out of bed in the morning to play with my older child. That I would half heartedly push a train around the tracks clutching onto my coffee waiting for the caffeine to hit my veins and for me to wake up a little bit. I just didn’t think that 18 months into having my second child I would still be sleep deprived, that my 18 month old wouldn’t sleep, that I would be so exhausted at times I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. That I’d pick up every bug going from the boys because I was so run down. That I would have the same conversation with my husband because I hadn’t realised that we’d already had it. That I would happily give up my evenings to go to bed and sleep when the boys slept because I didn’t know when the next wake up would happen. I knew sleep deprivation would be hard, would affect us all.
I didn’t think being a mum would be this hard.
I knew that my patience would be pushed to the limit. That the same repetitive question on repeat would drive me insane. That the daily battle to do anything without a battle would grind me down;
Good morning, shall we go the loo? NO. Can you eat your dinner please. NO. Come on, no more Peppa. NO. It’s time to get dressed now please. NO. We’re late, let’s go. NO. Time for bed buddy. NO. NO. NO. NO.
I didn’t expect to become a shouty mum who lost her temper. I thought that I’d keep my cool and be serene and joyful and “that’s ok darling peas aren’t for everyone” even when it was hard. I didn’t realise it would be this hard though and that my natural reactions would be to shout and get frustrated.
I didn’t think being a mum would be this hard.
I knew I would worry about them, from are they eating enough to should they be doing that already. That each night I would creep into their rooms as they slept to whisper goodnight, I didn’t know that just looking at them wouldn’t be enough, that I would need to touch them, to ruffle their hair, to do one last goodnight kiss. Whispered I love yous. I didn’t realise that I would get more and more anxious. That unthinkable scenarios would dance around my head as I slept. That I would need to go in and check just one more time
I didn’t think being a mum would be this hard.
I knew that I would over-analyse, that I would inspect every moment of their routine, are they stimulated enough? Am I doing enough? I knew I would be my biggest critic but I didn’t realise I would be so hard on myself. That mum guilt would hit me in full force, that it would become second nature for me to overthink every move I make.
I didn’t think being a mum would be this hard.
I knew that there would be long days, I didn’t realise that there would be days I would be counting the seconds to go until bedtime, let alone the minutes and hours. That I would rush off as soon as my husband walked through the door to find some air to breath.
I didn’t think being a mum would be this hard.
On the same hand I didn’t realise how joyful the happy moments would be. How my heart would sing at the sound of my boys saying Mama. How I would melt in a puddle at every snuggle. How the sounds of laughter would bring joy to my soul.
I knew that there would be happy moments, that there would be smiles and laughter. I just didn’t realise how wonderful they would be. That when people say there is nothing in the world like the sound of your children laughing they truly meant it. That one shy smile lasting mere seconds would make up for all the difficult moments in-between.
How every night, however bad my day had been, I would creep into my sleeping children to watch them. Eyes closed, dreaming in the way that only children do, arms and legs flung out of the covers. That I would cover them up, stroke their hair, give them one last kiss, one more I love you, and know that no matter how hard it is, the happy moments are what keep me going through those difficult moments. And wine. Wine helps….
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