I had the best weekend recently. I got the luxury of a date night with my main man, we (I, it’s always I) purchased tickets to a club to stomp along to a favourite DJ of ours, dropping some banging tunes – we still say stomp, drop and banging right? Months ago I bought the tickets and dreamed of our date night. Devil child was adopted for the night by her best friend auntie (She’s MY best friend) and ‘best snuggle giver’ uncle, while mum and dad shoveled drink down their throat, just to get over pre-night out jitters – it’s been a while, I tend to get a little antsy before going out these days. I’m out of practice.
Pumped full of Sailor Jerrys off we went into the night. Until, wait for it…..4am! Say what?! Parents out till 4am, what stop outs…what fools. But don’t worry, the babysitters assured me a late child pick up the following day was acceptable. In fact it was pretty much welcomed, best friend auntie and uncle had the ‘whole day planned’ Elf style. Baking, crafts, playing, cooking, the whole lot, in one day, with a toddler – who’s the fool now? Continue reading “Lost in Planet Parent. I miss the old me.”
I knew very quickly when I had Jess I wasn’t’ like the other mums. They all loved their baby, keen to play, hold and cuddle their squishy ball of human. At one baby class I watched as a mother stared into her babies eyes, smiling and cooing, loving every second of their play. It appeared genuine, it was genuine. I smiled and cooed with Jess, but I wasn’t enjoying it. I put on a show, pretending to be a ‘mother’.
More than once I was asked by excited, gleeful, wide eyed mums if I was ‘enjoying motherhood?’. My response was always a lie, my honest response would have been akin to telling an exited child that no, you’re not going to Disneyland, you’re going to the waltzers down the road. Continue reading “Can a person say they don’t like motherhood?”
Does everyone love hanging about with their kid every day, all day?
I love Jess to bits,I really do. I love her enough that if I hear a noise I will loudly thump my way down the stairs (the thumping obviously scares the bad man away) to scope out the place, checking the doors, kinnnda checking the bathroom – you know, like the bad man will be hiding in there waiting for his opportune moment when I’m doing a whiz and he’ll cut me into tiny pieces. If I hear a noise and Jess isn’t in, then I’ll pull the covers over my head and hope for the best.
So you see I do like her, alot. Continue reading “What a terrible mother….”