Parenting Like a Bitch

Becoming a Mummy is one of the most exciting and scary things to do in the world. Exciting because you are combining magic beans with magic cuddles and creating a magic mini human – with many other exciting ways to become a mummy too I know. And it’s scary because well, because you’ve seen it go pear shaped for many – especially those irresponsible mummies with their uncontrollable children in the supermarket. Right? 

Wrong….

Shall we take off our rose coloured glasses and get real here…. Yes, let’s do that.

Parenting is going to suck big time some days!

We’ve all had visions of the type of Mum we would be. We’ve also thought long and hard about how cute and agreeable our children would be and then … Well, then we actually become real life parents.

What we all need to know on those days where it sucks harder than a baby on a cracked nipple is that we are ok and it is ok to feel like we suck at this.

This post is for the days when being a Mum feels like it’s the hardest, most unrewarding and frustrating thing in the world to do. This is your virtual hug from one mumma to another.

SOME DAYS

Some days your mini-human will sleep for a total of 5 hours in a 24 hour period and it is not in one block of blissful sleep but broken into many much smaller-sized portions and always when you have shit to do.

Some days you will be puked on, peed on and pooped on a million times before you have even walked out the door and it’ll be the first time since your bundle arrived that you’re actually out of your PJ’S before lunchtime and you’ve even managed to do your hair and make-up… Sort of… It’s just not until later you realise you didn’t wash the conditioner out of your hair and you only put mascara on your left eye. Just rock it. Own it.

Some days you will post a cute pic of your baby on Facebook with hashtags like: #havenofuckstogive #luckythiskidiscute and you will mean it …. In an endearing way of course.

Some days the mini human is going to tear apart your soul while tearing up the supermarket aisle and you will be the poor mummy copping the stares from the very judgemental supermarket people. Supermarket people really are judgemental bastards aren’t they?! While we are talking supermarkets let me have a word with their marketing teams on behalf of all parents – why must you put everything we don’t want our children to have or eat at their eye level?! Why not hide that shit elsewhere and let everyone keep their sanity and shop in peace!

THE IDEAL

You may have in your mind a perfect picture but please know perfection is an expectation that you should wipe off your list right now – along with the perfect birth plan, the perfect sleep routine, the perfect child. You are giving birth to a human. A human who comes with their own needs, wants, personality and sometimes they’re even upgraded and come with devil horns… Doesn’t matter if you asked for the upgrade or not there are no refunds here! There is also no manual and the sooner you realise perfection is not in your control the sooner you will really enjoy parenthood… And it should be enjoyed. Imperfections and all.

“Perfection is an expectation that you should wipe off your list right now…” ~ Superwoman & Her Dirty Red Knickers

SCRAP IT

If you’ve pictured bliss – scrap it.

If you’ve pictured perfect Mummy, perfect Baby – scrap it. Delete it out of your mind now and forever.

If you’ve pictured only homemade organic food – scrap it. There will be days where preparation of organic food will be as hard and as overrated as the first crap you dared to push out after delivering that organic baby and tearing from one end to the other. 

If you’ve pictures breast feeding bliss and naturalness – some of us need to scrap it. There will be cracked nipples for many new mummies and as natural as breastfeeding is it is still not the easiest thing in the world to do for a lot of women. Totally ok. You are not a failure.

PARENTING LIKE A BITCH

Parenting like a bitch means that you ask for help when you need it. There is nothing weak about asking others for help.

Parenting like a bitch means before you go to bed in the evening when you’ve had one of those days look in the mirror and deep into your bloodshot eyeballs and say to yourself out loud like a crazy bitch “IT’S OK. I. AM. OK!”

Parenting like a bitch means you offer support to all those other mums doing it tough. Give them a hand when you are capable of giving it.

Parenting like a bitch means that after offering support which will be politely declined coz we are all so stubborn that you open your arms and your hearts to the troubles and tribulations of every other parent out there. You don’t have to take on their shit and you don’t have to save the world but being a good listener is heart healing. Trust me.

Parenting like a bitch means dropping the judgement. Dropping the anger, dropping the comparisons and choosing to just be real. Understand that every child and every child-parent relationship is different. Heck, I have five kids but only three of them toe the line most of the time! All five of them have been brought up the same. Same morals, same values and protocols for surviving. Yet two of them live by their own rules. It is what it is.

Parenting like a bitch means there will be moments in your life when you just want to pack up and walk the fuck out. Hell, you don’t even care for packing up – you’re done with that too! But generally once you’re at breaking point magic happens. The baby rolls over for the first time. Or the teenager randomly does the dishes. Or the non-verbal two-year-old drops his toy and clearly says his first word “Fuck.” It’s moments like these you look away, your once tense shoulders start shaking violently while you try to restrain yourself from wetting your pants in laughter … Oops pelvic floors. Wetting your pants is optional… Sometimes… Ok its not optional. You are a grown woman wetting her pants while laughing at her two-year-old son swearing.

From one Mummy to another – are you doing ok?

One Love,

DRK xxx

If you or anyone you know is suffering from Post-Natal Depression please contact your local GP, or someone you trust to talk with and get help. You can also visit PANDA.

Here’s some information from their website on PND:

The signs and symptoms of postnatal anxiety and depression can vary and may include:

  • Panic attacks (a racing heart, palpitations, shortness of breath, shaking or feeling physically detached from your surroundings)
  • Persistent, generalised worry, often focused on fears for the health or wellbeing of baby
  • The development of obsessive or compulsive behaviours
  • Increased sensitivity to noise or touch
  • Changes in appetite: under or overeating
  • Sleep problems unrelated to the baby’s needs
  • Extreme lethargy: a feeling of being physically or emotionally overwhelmed and unable to cope with the demands of chores and looking after baby

Mittelschmerz is not a German Sausage

Mittelschmerz. It’s a fancy name that I’m pretty sure I’m not pronouncing properly … Mit.. Tel.. Sch.. Merz…. Sounds exotic! 

Where is this foreign place? Are there Germans there?

Well I’ve googled it and it’s definitely not a place. It’s not even the name of a tasty German sausage. It’s actually a really difficult to say medical word for ovulation pain. Yes they have a really difficult to say medical word for ovulation pain. Who knew?!

For those that don’t have ovulation pain this post may not interest you. For those that do – this is most definitely for you. I want you to know you’re not alone in your pain and frustration or in your search (every 17 days) to cure your regular bitch pain.

Let’s break it down, thanks to Mayo Clinic….

Definition

By Mayo Clinic Staff

Mittelschmerz is one-sided, lower abdominal pain associated with ovulation. German for “middle pain,” mittelschmerz occurs midway through a menstrual cycle — about 14 days before your next menstrual period.

In most cases, mittelschmerz doesn’t require medical attention. For minor mittelschmerz discomfort, over-the-counter pain relievers and home remedies are often effective. If your mittelschmerz pain is troublesome, your doctor may prescribe an oral contraceptive to stop ovulation and prevent midcycle pain.

For those who don’t have it let me give you a visual…

It’s 17 days since your last period started. You’ve shed bloody stuff from your lady bits for 7 days straight, you’ve cramped up, you’ve eaten shitloads of whatever your hands could get a hold of and every morning you’ve woken up wanting wear white pants and then you’ve restrained yourself from wearing white pants.  It’s been fun hasn’t it? Now you’re on your 10 days of peace and you will get to enjoy those 10 whole days of freedom-wearing-white-pants-if-you-want. 

Then it happens.

Day 17 arrives and you wake up with little wind-like pains. Nothing major. You have your coffee and breakfast (if you’re lucky) and your pains turn themselves up a notch. Did the milk in my coffee give me gas, am I lactose intolerant – you start thinking to yourself even though this has happened on Day 17(ish) on and off for the past 20+ years. 

The discomfort continues to intensify and before you know it you’re bent over like a motherfucker thinking is this appendicitis or the work of the devil himself? By the time you’re curled up in the foetal position you brain finally clicks over, slaps you across the face and reminds you it’s Day 17 and this is actually your monthly ovulation pain. Sometimes it doesn’t get to that point and you get through Day 17 just thinking you need a decent fart and then sometimes it’s so intense you vomit from the pain… as was the case for me 7 days ago and still suffering.

Countless doctors appointments as an adult and emergency hospital trips as a young girl have all ruled out anything sinister. I’ve been (mis)diagnosed as having acute and then chronic appendicitis, endometriosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, polycystic ovaries but not with polycystic ovarian syndrome coz I’m not obese or hairy and clearly have no problem having children. 

It’s just one of “those things” they say. Really? Really? Here take this hormone infested pill til menopause, they say. Even though I’ve had a DVT, even though they make me sick, even though they make me crazy, even though our family history says ‘no’ to the pill.

Mittelschmerz. We are not friends. You are the bane of my life and I wish you were just a yummy German sausage. Worse still is 10 days after you’ve entered my life, tortured me and stopped me from functioning like a normal human being you leave me and release yourself from my body and I’m back to day one of my cycle. 

Here we go again…..