Once upon a time a Nobel and kind Princess named Kiley who lived in a quaint little cottage in the forest with her Prince, Owen. She would often dream about what it would be like to bare a little prince or princess. She fantasised about their beautiful fair cheeks touching hers, about their lovely fresh somewhat milky smell, their tiny little fingers and glorious chubby legs and how truly happy she would be. She was blessed with a golden haired Prince who was adored by all. Prince Hamish changed Princess Kiley’s life in ways she never thought possible………….
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So, before I had kids I had a notion of what it would be like. Sure, I would be tired but so in love I wouldn’t really care right? What’s tired when you have a beautiful baby gazing adoringly at you, loving you
and needing you like no one has before?
Yeah I wouldn’t have time for ‘dates’ with my male companion but honestly, we’d outgrown that a long time ago. We much preferred the gentle, predicable rhythm of homelife now. We didn’t need to go out socialising (aka pissing up) with all our friends every weekend now that we were grown-ups with our own little offspring to raise did we?
Wrong and wrong. And then some more wrong. When I think back to pre-kids me I wish I could waltz up to pre-kids me and kick myself in the shins. ‘YES!’ I’d scream. ‘GO CLUBBING FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT! Call in sick and sit on the couch in your trackies eating pizza rolls. Sleep till 12pm, shower, go
back to bed and repeat all weekend.YOU WILL NEVER EXPERIENCE THIS FREEDOM AGAIN YOU EEJIT!!!’
I hate to admit it but I miss pre-kid days. When I would winge about working full time because I didn’t have time to ‘do anything’ and I couldn’t explore ‘my hobbies’ due to the demands my ‘unreasonable’ boss was making. HUH! Little did I know I was about to get a new boss. One that would demand things all day and the minute I delivered, throw them at me and yell ‘NO MUMMA BAD!’. Who would expect me to work 24 hours a day and wasn’t even
reasonable enough to allow me to pee in peace. One that would WIPE FAECES on me.
I mean, if this were any other workplace I could have him for harassment, bullying, battery. You name it, he’d be done. In this alternative reality all I get is friends and family staring at me stupidly saying ‘but he’s lovely isn’t he’ or through fits of laughter state that ‘I had my hand’s full’. Yes, yes I do. How about instead of laughing, you pick his effing shoe up and watch my trolley so I don’t have to make a choice between my kid, the shopping (which I’d paid for) and the shoe?!
The biggest one? Slow-mo reels of fun family ‘activities’ that would play in my head while I was up the duff. The fun we’d have in the park with the dog, running through the fields, chasing balls, laughing while the wind swept through our hair and the sun shone upon our faces? Reality? The dog doesn’t get taken to the park, we barely make it out of the house for proper events like grandma’s birthday or overseas holidays. If we did in-fact make it to the car, I guarantee, there would be at least 1 poo, spilt ‘tanies’ (sultanas), smashed ‘nanies’ (bananas) enough tears to fill the pacific, and I probably would have forgotten pants or a bra. Who am I kidding; I haven’t worn
a proper bra since 2013. A crop top is considered ‘making an effort’ now.
Didn’t you know? Lean in because this is the Mothership of magical unicorn garbage. The fantasy that has been passed down through generations, the big kahuna. The one that is shovelled down our throats so far that we can barely mumble anything other than ‘baby’ ‘must procreate’ or ‘where is the sperm?’ as soon as we meet someone who seems a bit of alright. Ready? Here it is:
That WHAT I NEED OR WANT no longer MATTERS because I am a SELFLESS
MOTHER EARTH TYPE who runs
on nothing but LOVE.
Huh. I tell ya what I would like to run on? SLEEP. FOOD. COUCH TIME and then sloppy toddler love. If you are expecting, never fear. Do what I did when brave mothers would try and be HONEST and TELL THE TRUTH. Smugly
giggle to yourself and think ‘they obviously have active children, mine will be completely different’.
Tell yourself that. You’ll be FINE. Yup, Fine. Right as rain. Not at all crazy. Totally with it. Cool chick. Go get em you firecracker you.
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And they all lived happily after. So happily in fact that Princess Kiley and Prince Owen were blessed with another bundle of joy. We have been informed, Prince or Princess Hay is due to be delivered to their quaint little cottage (that now is simply not large enough
and will need to be renovated) in July 2016. Prince Hamish is delighted at the prospect of a new family member. He has already got a nickname for his brother or sister. They are now lovingly referred to as ‘poo face’.
