No Lies - The Truth About Motherhood

I’m at the age where all of my friends seem to be having babies. It’s lovely really, photos of brand new little people seem to be popping up on Facebook daily. But along with thinking how cute they are, I can’t help but look at them and their innocently blissful new mummies and think "if only you knew the truth". Everyone knows that having kids is hard. But no one tells you quite how hard. Here are some of the things your mum conveniently forgot to tell you (probably because she knew damn well that if she did she would get no grandkids).

No Sleep

You are totally prepared for lack of sleep with a baby. Everyone talks about sleepless nights, you know it’s going to need to eat and crap round the clock, that’s a given. But no one can prepare you for how that lack of sleep actually feels. And, more importantly, no one tells you that it can last years (nearly 6 years and counting for me, and apparently doesn't get much easier). And still no one tells you that when and if your kids ever do (miraculously) sleep through the night, your sleep pattern is so fucked you wake up every two hours anyway. Just like if you do happen to get the chance of a child free lie in, it just means you’re wide awake in bed cursing at 630am on a Sunday morning instead of wide awake preparing breakfast and changing nappies (and cursing under your breath).

No thanks

Kids are not grateful for being born nor are they appreciative of the sacrifices you have made to give them life. Don’t try to get them to understand or empathise, a ten minute monologue about the amazing life you had pre-them (complete with a “look how good I looked in my crop top” trip down memory lane with the photo albums) will be greeted with a blank look and “can I have a KitKat?”

No rules

You WILL turn into "one of those" mothers and you WILL break all of your own self imposed rules. The “I’ll never bribe my kids” rule goes out the window pretty quick when you child is having one of those “my child will never behave THAT way in public” moments.

No escape

Just as you are happily telling everyone you got no stretch marks whatsoever in your pregnancy, you finally lose the last of the baby weight and suddenly your tummy looks like a family of snails has crawled all over it. And no, fake tan does not cover stretch marks. Trust me.

But despite all this there are also good things that no one tells you, and they can (almost) completely cancel out the crap stuff.

No expectations

Especially when they are little, kids can be surprisingly appreciative of even the tiniest acts of love. Son number one said he wanted a surprise when he woke up the next day. I said OK, planning on wrapping one of his long forgotten toys in shiny new wrapping paper and presenting it with a ta-da (which probably wouldn't have worked with him but would have worked with son two. Kids are totally gullible up to the age of three after that they are so shrewd and observant they can spot fake enthusiasm a mile off). Anyway, me being me completely forgot my promise and in the morning son one burst into my bedroom demanding his surprise (they also have an elephantine memory). Bleary eyed (after two hours sleep) and hostage in my bedroom with no tools at my disposal besides my phone I quickly scrawled a cute drawing on Sketch Draw. This may seem a little tight as surprises go, but I’m regularly presented with a drawing on a scribble pad as a "surprise". And so proud was son number one of his surprise that he insisted I print it out so he could put it up in his bedroom. He even made me a thank you card the next day.

No really  bad times

Even when things are as bad as bad can be, a cuddle with your kids can make everything OK, if only for that moment. Their cute little bodies all curled into yours and their smell (even the little boy smell is comforting in miserable times), is like all the best feelings in this life rolled up into one snuggly little package. Gangly legs and arms and little pot bellies that on an adult would look out of proportion and unhealthy but on kids just looks cute. Stroking those pot bellies (and hearing the ensuing giggle) is better than Prozac.

I like to speak the truth, and this post was really just an act of public service. And it’s not the whole truth (I don’t want to be responsible for single-handedly ending the human race). Congratulations (and best of luck) to all the new mummies out there.

A Girl's Gotta Eat

As you may have noticed I haven’t written a blog for two weeks now. Events happened which turned my life into something straight out of an episode of Jeremy Kyle. Which is wrong on so many levels: I have regular dental check ups, I don’t even have my ears pierced let alone masses of gold hoops and thankfully, there is absolutely no question about the parentage of my children, or me for that matter. Anyway, when all this happened I tried to write my blog, really I did, but every time I sat down the only thing that came out of my fingers was “aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrggghh” or a rant that sounded like I should be sitting on one of those blue chairs wearing a white puffa jacket, badly applied makeup, leggings and high tops. And I knew that nothing at all was better than that. But I’m back now.

Amongst all this, I decided to stop internet dating, because maybe I wasn’t ready for a relationship or even dating so soon after such a life changing event. As Big Bro said, I needed to work out who I was before I could even think about or know what I needed from a relationship. But in the last few days I have been getting a bit bored and, dare I say it, lonely.

And there it is. Lonely. The word that no single person likes to dare utter, lets bury it in the simple joy of painting chairs and fabulous girls nights out.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some great things about being single. Not having to share the TV (or worse still sitting in separate rooms, knowing that you should really be putting in more effort to watch Fringe rather than cookery programmes, because lets face it, you would have done at the beginning of the relationship – I was sort of seeing a guy recently and agreed to sit and watch the entire Alien trilogy with him, such is the need to show a new man how fun an exciting I can be, thankfully I never did have to do that, anyway, I digress), not having to listen to another persons snoring or snuffling all night (except of course when the kids come in with you), and your pretty dresses are no longer wedged into the wardrobe between a ten year old suit and a million unworn shirts.

But my return to internet dating is not born out of a need to watch sci-fi or share wardrobe space, rather than a need for some male company, getting dressed up to go on a date, and that excitement and distraction from life’s day to day dullness that comes in the form of a cheeky text message from someone you have yet to learn everything about. I really don’t expect to find “the one” on a dating website. I like to believe I’ll meet him when we both reach for the last pack of all butter croissants in Waitrose (despite the fact that I’m rarely in Waitrose and when I am I’m usually wild eyed and stressed, accompanied by two sticky, screaming children, if Mr Right did see me he would probably surrender the croissants and skidaddle). Sometimes though, just the thought that I could meet the one is enough. Because, in my darkest moments when I begin to worry that I could end up alone and single forever, with the standard millions of cats and piles of unread newspapers around me, that thought alone is enough to get me back on the dating website quicker than you can say “single persons supplement”.

And the crux of it all is, well (sorry mum) but a girl’s gotta eat. Not just in a (sorry mum) sexual way, but in all the other little ways that having a date or the early stages of a relationship enriches your life. Discovering someone new and exciting, watching TV you wouldn’t normally watch and those early morning cuddles that start your day with a smile.

OK so maybe I haven't, and never will, come across my fantasy dream hunk (wow, that’s a phrase straight out of a 1980’s edition of Just17) on a dating website. But you have to ask yourself, is a real date with someone who seems kind of OK looking and nice company better than no date at all with your fantasy dream hunk? Am I better off sitting at home with my TV remote to myself, looking at my nicely not squashed dresses, trying to work out who I am and what I want (how exactly do I do that I wonder? there is probably another blog post in there somewhere) rather than getting out there and having a pleasant evening with someone who I might feel a bit “meh” about right now, but in reality could turn out to be amazing?

It’s a tough one. You can tell very little from a few lines of a profile and the standard age, location and “do you have pets” check list. I have had dates where the person has clearly stuck their head on someone elses body and vice versa. And I have had dates where the person seems to tick all the boxes on paper (or screen) but in reality something didn’t fit. Until you actually meet someone you can’t know.

I’m far from desperate. There are a million pieces of second hand furniture in my house that could do with a lick of paint, and I have yet to board the eHarmony single girls bus to that fabulous night out with my single friends (all two of them), so I’m in no rush to meet Mr Right. But it’s those early morning cuddles I miss the most. Time to spruce up my profile.