Daily Mail Mother Hating.

I read an extremely rude article (obviously a daily mail special) about how fashionable it is to be a selfish mother, drink a lot of gin and confess to the moments your mothering has been a little under par. I get it, I write openly about how hard parenthood can be and I want so desperately to remove the stigma that plagues us all with having to be the best at something that is so notoriously hard for many of us but we need to do this with a degree of restraint because glamourising dysfunctional behaviour can be very damaging. The ‘instamum’ fad is something that I follow because it’s somewhat interesting but it is far from my life, I often blog about the difficulties of every day life with a baby and child and all the washing and the bloody bottles and before that the problems I had with boob feeding but it is all required to raise my little humans. I laugh at the size of my butt and the hangover I may have once a year when I dare to make that trip back into normality, BUT to me and many other mums it is not normality! I cannot afford to drink fancy gin infused with the flowers from a Beatrix Potter like garden, I cannot afford the beautiful shoes and all the fancy clothes, I cannot afford to resume my previous job and benefit from some of the freedom that may allow. I am not bitter, I have two gorgeous children and the last thing I want to do is be judgemental but what we should do is take the things we see with a pinch of salt because these mumma’s with the thousands of followers on social media may not be portraying the reality of their life (barely anyone does these days) and in allowing others to see what makes them popular as the norm of their life may lead to the imitation of this and it could become dangerous. Let’s face it all that gin they apparently consume may be a lie, and if it isn’t they may have a really good support network of people that help them out with their busy social life.
Essentially what I am trying to say in the most nonjudgmental way possible is that for the vast majority of us parents we cannot simply (and I do not believe we should either) slip children into our lives, we need to adapt and change to what they need. It is hard to retain your original identity when you have children, and I am not saying that you will never get it back or that at times it is not okay for it to make a comeback whilst you are at the bar drinking shots but that is not the reality your children need as a common occurrence. Children need to come first, that’s right I have to take a back seat with my own needs and wants to fulfil what I want for my children. I choose to populate, I need to ensure that I do it to my best abilities.
I also am suffering from postnatal depression and anxiety and whilst I do my best at as mum I can sometimes see the lifestyles of others who are more confident, outgoing and relaxed mothers and want a slice of that, I know my limitations and I cannot afford myself to slip into the bad habits of lazy parenting because it would be so detrimental for me. Remove the stigma of accepting that some days are a little shit, some weeks, some months even, do not glamorise the notion of being a mother that doesn’t care (not saying that they don’t) is okay. You get me?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-4508726/Why-women-boasting-slummy-mummies.html

 

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13st 10Ilbs

Before lunch.

I don’t know what it is about these numbers that cause me so much upset but if I am being honest they really do. My body is an issue to me, I don’t like it and I’m almost certain that I never will. This is not a blog that is going to inspire self acceptance or give you some bullshit speech about how perfect you are because quite frankly I’ve just told you hate my body, it’s also unlikely I’ve ever seen your’s, you don’t need my validation it won’t help you at all and lastly it is none of my business. But it is a business, a very lucrative one and if we consider that then maybe we can jump to the conclusion no one has a perfect body because how the fuck would they continue to make money out of us. We are not encouraged or allowed to feel good about ourselves.

Take plus size models for an example, how fucking fabulous do they look? They have their cellulite airbrushed out, they have their hair and makeup done professionally and they have a perfect skin tone all over. So is that the reality of being plus size?

I have never been happy with my weight and the acceptance of it hasn’t been in short supply, my partner loves my body and the way I look but it’s just not enough and I don’t think I’ll ever know what is enough. Some preach self love and I’m not saying that doesn’t work and many of you may have this but I don’t think that the confidence it takes is in huge supply. In short I’m trying and it’s not for me it’s for my daughter, a 7 year old I never want to have the internal conflict and struggle of who she is. I don’t want my son to grow up to become a man not only aware of this type of self doubt but who may use it in an emotionally damaging way.

There are women who work out 7 days a week, there are some that skip meals, there are even some that try to put on weight and those who are happy are often fucking shamed for this. We don’t value confidence but we strive for it

Basically there is no right just wrong, my favourite example of this is shaving adverts where the model shaves a hairless leg because the existence of hair means you’re lazy or dirty or unkempt. I don’t know how I’m going to do it but I’m trying to feel right about being wrong. I’m sharing this not to tell you what you think you want or need to hear, I’m doing it because you’re not alone

Below, I never wear matching underwear, I have a hole in these pants and the red line around my tummy is from my tights. My legs stick together. My skin is blotchy. I don’t like it but I’m going to do what I can to like it.

The Lies We Tell. 

I recently spoke to a work colleague about social media and how they personally did not tend to post anything because they didn’t have anything that they considered as interesting to anybody else going on. They didn’t have children. With this conversation it hit me that not only do I post up a huge amount of pictures of my children but I also make it not only seem like my life is interesting but that it’s some sort of fairytale happy. Don’t get me wrong I am happy, I have a loving partner, two wonderful children,a giant  chocolate Labrador and a very fat ginger cat, but in the same day I can have a partner that drives me round the twist, two children that push me to my breaking point, a dog that poops in the dinning room and a cat that won’t come in when called, but I rarely post about that. The reality of our lives is much different to what we let other people see and when they do see what’s really happening it can be viewed as embarrassing, like I’m about to get embarrassed that I sometimes fantasise about killing my boyfriend. Here are some of the things you didn’t see:


George got into a right state putting on his sleep suit, I nearly cried and Millie refused to get out of the bath because she’d get cold, instead she stayed in it sobbing whilst I tried to explain I needed her to get the fuck out. I screamed, everyone cried. 


Millie refused to drink her hot chocolate and only wanted mine, I refused to eat the cake I’d been bought and we all got really stressed at each other and I shouted in Costa. I did not say thank you. 


I received flowers from Jess after he was a dick, I posted a picture of them with emoji hearts, still did not forgive him and continued to be a bitch. 


I’d been bought a Yankee Candle Advent calendar, I was really disappointed and rude because it wasn’t bought ready for December 1st and I wanted chocolate. 


I had been dreading Halloween all week and didn’t want to go trick or treating in the cold, I was very annoyed. 


Possibly my all time favourite lie. We walked devils chimney and I hated every sing step, I moaned because it was too hot, I was too fat, the baby was too heavy, my legs were chaffing. 

So I am happy, I am in love, I am at times a big fat lie teller. 

Peace out.