Musings On 2.5 Years Of Motherhood

The end of June saw Alfie turn 2 and half years old. Mad to think we will have a 3-year-old come Christmas. I started jotting down a few random thoughts on things I have learned in the last two and a half years in the notes app on my phone, not with any intention of sharing. But then it grew and spilled out and I thought, ah sod it, let’s share. 

Stay-at-home parenting (which is done predominantly by mums) should be recognised as work. Unpaid work admittedly but that, in my opinion, is all the more reason to recognise it. Full time stay-at-home parents are friggin’ superheroes. I am a stay-at-home mum two days a week and it is by far the hardest job I have ever had. All jobs are different, I fully recognise that, but my working days are a peaceful delight in comparison to my solo parenting days. I get a lunch break, don’t have to concentrate on keeping someone alive and my boss doesn’t insist on coming to the bathroom with me and handing me toilet paper whilst shouting “BYE WEE!”.  

Plenty of people warned me that I may struggle with a different body shape post-birth. Absolutely no one warned me how, 2.5 years after giving birth, I’d look in the mirror and see stupid tufts of hair sticking out the top of my head and want to scream. Post-partum hair regrowth is SO ANNOYING. 

I have never felt as low and empty as I did when in the depths of sleep deprivation. It is no joke. That hollow-eyed, milk-soaked time was a wild ride. 

Emotional parenting advice is always relevant no matter when someone had their baby. Practical parenting advice from someone who had their children more than five years ago is probably going to be outdated. 

Parenting is hard but people will find different stages hard. I know plenty of people who thought the baby stage was great and then wondered what the hell happened when a toddler delinquent was unleased on their household. I personally would take a toddler any day of the week. I get more sleep, don’t have him hanging off my boobs and can leave him with other people. I mean, sure, he is a dictator. But a very funny one. Essentially, no experience is the same. You cannot judge what someone struggles with and what someone doesn’t because your experiences are so different. Babies are the same in that they are babies. Otherwise, their personalities, sleep habits and eating preferences vary just as much as adults. 

Solidarity to the other parents whose child will only nap in their buggy. I see you walking up and down the streets, praying they’ll drop off soon so you can leg it home and collapse on the sofa for just a moment. 

A supportive, kind NCT group is worth their weight in gold. There is no way I would have survived the first year if I hadn’t been able to go for coffee with a lovely bunch of women who never judged. 

I loathe to lean into stereotypes, but in my experience, parents of boys spend a lot more time running. And their house décor is now vehicle-toy-chic. Please encourage them to sit down and do not bring round another sodding toy tractor for the love of god. 

The powers that be only putting baby changing facilities in women’s toilets is so irritating and says everything we need to know about where they think the responsibility of parenting lies. 

Friendships do change when you have a child and it can be hard to get your head round. You have so much less time, have to balance so much to make it work and your daily lives are dictated by meals, naps and bedtimes. You’re also bloody knackered by 8pm. If friends don’t live nearby, the level of planning involved can feel on the same level as invading another country. All of which can be further complicated by the fact that your life just suddenly feels so different to those of your childfree friends and trying to explain why suggested plans won’t work around the ridiculous palaver that is having a young child can make you feel like you’re being a royal pain in the arse. It’s not impossible to maintain friendships but it’s bloody hard work and not being able to see my friends on the regular is my least favourite thing about parenting. 

It is almost guaranteed that at some point, an old lady will tell you to appreciate every moment. Usually in a supermarket. Usually when you are in no mood to be told to appreciate every moment. 

If you see a parent in the street shouting/looking at their phone/looking incredibly fed up or just generally not being this 100%-perfect-100%-of-the-time parent we are all expected to be, please, PLEASE challenge your own automatic judgements. You are witnessing a split second in that person’s 24-hour day. You have no idea what that day is looking like, no idea what they are trying to juggle, no idea what pressure they are under. You have no right to judge them. Also, if they’re parenting a toddler, they are probably a great parent and their child is probably being an unreasonable arsehole.

  

There is a trend online right now that aims to shame parents who don’t have their child’s car seat facing backwards until the child is about 6. I cannot emphasise enough how much this trend infuriates me. I don’t care what anyone’s choice is, but I cannot stand the act of shaming other parents and I am willing to bet a significant amount of money that these smug people have never experienced their toddler screaming in distress for three hours straight or vomiting everywhere due to travel sickness. And to suggest that the parents who have experienced this and made the decision to face their child forward after the legal requirement has ended, care less about their child’s safety than other parents is just not okay.   

Everyone is a perfect parent before they actually have children. We would all do well to remember that.

 

Toddlers are the funniest, most unreasonable, wholesome, infuriating creatures I have ever come across. 

Sometimes you have to accept where your thresholds are, even if they are different to how you imagined they’d be. I really thought we would travel so much more with Alfie but 2.5 years in, the idea of locking ourselves in a metal tube in the sky with him still feels about as tempting as sleeping with one of his dirty nappies under my pillow. 

If you want a good relationship with someone’s child, be it a friend or family member (I don’t suggest approaching random children in the street and trying to be friends), you have to make the effort. It is highly unlikely that a parent is going to turn you down if you ask to come spend time with their child. But it is not their job to make it happen and they likely won’t want to feel like they are pushing their child upon you. Don’t be overly hesitant, you’re not intruding. 

Another online trend I’ve noticed recently – posting a list of ‘parenting non-negotiables’. I recently saw one that included a ‘non-negotiable’ that their child is asleep by 7pm so they have an evening. Same mate, same. Trouble is, my toddler’s ‘non-negotiable’ is that that he goes to sleep at 9pm. No prizes for guessing who is currently winning that argument. If my child has taught me one thing it is that assuming you have control over their sleep patterns is a guaranteed path into madness. A baby or toddler does not understand nor has nature programmed them to sleep through the night or go to bed at a time that suits you. Just because someone else’s child does, does not mean you are doing something wrong. You. Are. Not. Doing. Anything. Wrong. This is the hill I am very much prepared to die on. 

It does not matter if you aren’t good at crafts, curdle inside when they start singing at parent groups, don’t make courgette muffins for your child or want to scream when you enter the playground for the eighteenth time that week. This has no reflection on whether you are raising your child well or not. 

There are just some things you can’t truly understand until you have experienced it, until you have been knee-deep in the mustard-coloured-poo-covered trenches. And that’s okay.

It is impossible to have a tidy house if you have kids and I refuse to believe otherwise. 

It can feel counter-intuitive and society will make you feel like a bad parent, but in order to be good parents, it is VITAL that you have time to yourself and time together as a couple (if you have the means, which I recognise some do not). It is cliché, but you really cannot pour from an empty cup. Your child needs happy, loving parents. You cannot be that if you don’t have some time to yourself or invest any time into your relationship. Take that time, schedule that time; do both unapologetically. 

There is no better sound than a small human proper belly laughing. 

My child refuses to eat fruit and vegetables. Just in case you need reassurance that it’s not just you. 

Having old friends who just happen to have a baby at the same time as you has absolutely no downsides. I’m not saying try and time your pregnancies together but it is so great to know that someone you have been friends with for yonks is right there in it with you.

Dads will be praised for taking care of their child’s basic needs like they have just run a marathon. It is not an achievement for a man to look after his own child and it would be nice if we could up our standards of men. 

Young children love repetition and the joy of the small. They really are just as happy running around the park or watching aeroplanes in the sky as they would be on an expensive day out/holiday. Don’t put unnecessary pressure on yourself for the sake of ‘making memories’. 

If you have a spare second at any point in your day, write down a nice moment that happened, or something funny your child said, or a memory that you don’t want to forget. You’ll be surprised how each day has at least one special moment. And you will forget them amongst the chaos. All the hard work and tantrums and exhaustion are much easier to remember. You don’t wanna forget how long and perfect their eyelashes were or when they came up you and gave you a toothy, slobbery kiss completely unprompted. 

It’s just a phase, it’s just a phase, it’s just a phase. 

Wise words from my mum: if you are good parent 80% of the time and a shit parent 20% of the time, you are a good parent. No one is perfect. Chances are you’re a good parent 95% of the time and shit parent 5% of the time. Cut yourself some slack. 

The days are long, but the years are short has never been a truer sentence.