Understanding: Being A Mum vs. Not Being A Mum

July 27, 2016

There are many things in life I now understand, or at least have a very different outlook on, since having my baby.

For a start, “5 minutes of silence” usually meant feet up, in the bath, relaxing with my favourite YouTuber talking away in the background, or TOWIE, or some other brain numbing program that us women just can’t get enough of. In fact, 5 minutes of silence before I was a mum mainly was just any time I was not having a “have you done the dishes yet?” argument with my other half. Oh how times have changed.

“5 minutes of silence” is now when I beg the other half to do the bed time feed, having drove myself mad all day talking in baby language, listening to my prep machine beeping, or anxiously trying to figure out when I should start making a bottle so I can get it down his neck quickly enough to avoid the noise which can only be described as a fire engine siren imitation.

I also now understand why some mums drink every other night. You know those people who just have one drink? I am now that person.

There is something so satisfying about laying full stretch on the couch, baby monitor on, with an iced cold beer, or an iced cold wine, or basically anything cold and alcoholic. I wouldn’t have been caught dead before. To be honest, I was more of a “whats the point in having one drink? if you’re going to have a drink you might aswell get blottoed” type of person. As you can probably tell, most of the nights out I had before I was a mum did not end in the greatest of fashions.

I applaud any stay at home single mother who does absolutely everything herself. I am afraid I am nowhere near as strong and patient as you. I used to say things like “I will never ‘palm my baby off’ on anyone, I will do everything myself”, but now I also really look forward to mine and the other half’s date night on a Saturday when Oscar spends the night with his Nanna.

Saying that, as soon as he gets there, I spend half an hour saying goodbye in every tone of voice imaginable and then when we leave I count down the minutes until we are picking him back up, looking through all the pictures of him on my phone, saying “Aw look! Look how much he has changed! I miss him”.

The only thing we utilise whilst having a break is the ability to eat our tea in a normal amount of time.

We enjoy not giving ourselves a challenge/crippling indigestion eating it as quickly as possible to avoid the baby crying for his bottle and in return, us ending up with cold food. Have you notice babies seem to have a magical sense? As soon as that fork touches your lips, bam! They are awake and want feeding NOW.

And to finish it off on an extremely soppy note, I now understand the meaning of happiness.

The minute he was born and looked at me with his huge blue eyes, my outlook on life and what happiness is has completely changed. I love to moan about how tired I am, but I can’t imagine living in a world where he’s not pulling my hair or touching my face or laughing at my desperate attempts to try get him to say “mama” before he says “dada”.

Granted, when I am rubbing sudocrem on his bum and he poo’s on my hand, it isn’t the most glorious of times, but would I change anything? No.

Okay, maybe just the pooing on the hand situation.

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