tough gig

This mumma thing is hard. Yes it is absolutely the best thing EVER but at the same time is a really tough gig. There I said it, sometimes I think honestly is the best policy and sometimes us mumma's struggle and I am sure the daddy's do also. I certainly don't wish to sound negative but I have spent the last few weeks struggling with the myth that is 'motherhood'. You know the one portrayed by every nappy advert under the sun...giggling, sleeping, calming...when our life is more like...giggling, crying, giggling, tantruming, tiny bit of sleeep, calm, catastrophic, then giggling again. I am lucky enough to have some divine girlfriends around me (and a loving hubby) who have reassured me that my feelings of confusion and uncertainty are very normal. Miss T is still the most engaging, humorous and free spirited individual I have ever met however along side these sentiments I have been surprised and often stumped by the complexities that are motherhood and toddlerhood for that matter.

For years before the arrival of Miss T I dreamt of being a mumma. You know a calm divine earth mother who made her own play dough and never lost her cool. I dreamt of afternoons sipping coffee and tea and nibbling goodies with the girls uninterrupted ( HA!) while our charming kiddies played. I dreamt of endless cuddles and constant satisfaction. Of long walks with a happy bubba in her pram. Of mumma and bubba dates to the park or the local coffee shop where we were both just happy to sit together and laugh. My perception didn't involve sleep deprivation (STILL 1.5yrs on) and it certainly didn't include cooking ( I SUCK) and cleaning (YEP SUCK AGAIN). So I guess this is where I have come unstuck. My perception was totally off. For me anyway.

The hubby thinks I am in denial about being a mumma (He says this in the most endearing way I might add) and he also apparently loves that I am more like a teenager playing mum...And I guess I have to agree. I will never care about the best way to soak clothes or how to bake the tastiest pie or how to make play dough. It just isn't me. Actually I did consider making play dough one afternoon but quickly realised we only have pink Himalayan salt in the house and certainly not 1 kilo of it like the recipe required. There is nothing more I want than to be the best mumma for Miss T but at the same time I kind of don't want to pack baby wipes, nappies, snacks and a change of clothes just to grab a coffee that is likely to last 5 minutes...Does that make me less of a mumma. I am thinking no.

So seasoned mumma's out there I would love some pearls of wisdom to help me on my journey or mumma's a little less experienced like me what works for you or what have you found most challenging on your journey thus far?

Lucky Miss T has a surrogate Great Aunt who made her Playdough the other day :)

Miss T playing mumma x

don't tell daddy

I had a moment driving Miss T home the other day from her Yaya’s. I realised that I was being a little bit of  a hypocrite and quite a cheeky Mumma. I was feeding my almost 1.5 year old an M&M at almost each traffic light just to keep her quiet. (yep you read that right!) Great strategy Mumma! At the time I felt quite guilty but this morning I am finding it quite funny. The poor hubby would have been scolded for this type of behaviour and in fact was somewhat recently…I hopped out of bed. The two of them were so peaceful on the couch watching basketball. Miss T was so content and quietly nibbling on something.

'what is she eating for breakfast?'

‘she wanted tiny teddies!’ 

‘so you gave her tiny teddies. Seriously!’

So how did we get to this moment of serious misjudgement by me...

1. I was tired after working

2. The little monkey wouldn’t stop crying hysterically

3. I was trying to sneak the odd M&M into my own mouth without her seeing

4.  She saw and she put out her sweet little hand and said ‘me’

I thought oh why not. Who will see. And one became two and two became three and so on... And why am I telling you this, I guess to clear my conscious and to proclaim I can do better! Don't get me wrong we give Miss T the odd treat but I am just thinking that perhaps a bartering system of chocolate for quiet isn't such a great idea. I am not naive enough to think there won't be more of these moments and I no doubt will use the old ' don't tell daddy' often over the next oh 20 years but I am hoping they will be few and far between.

Once my own dad told me ‘parents aren’t perfect, we all make mistakes and we are only learning' and right now this little pearl of wisdom is ringing true. Sorry no more M&M’S for you Miss T.


Miss T loving her 'Gumnut' freckle on a saturday morning at the markets.
A treat daddy knew about...

Photo's courtesy of Miss T's gorgeous godmother Aunty La