Mama Life, Parenting

MUM.

Being a Mum is precious. Being a Mum is the world’s greatest gift.

Being a Mum is long days and longer nights. Being a Mum is being a teacher, a confidant, a pillow, a chauffeur, a chef, a punching bag, a cleaner. An entertainer, an alarm clock, a cheerleader, a provider, a voice of reason, a dishevelled hot mess. A lego architect when all you know how to build is a house or a farm lol (anyone else?) Pablo Picasso for homework which turns out more like Pablo Shitcasso. A devils advocate, an audience for a fancy dress show, a listener, a dance partner when their favourite pop song that you can’t bear comes on. A landing spot for your kids vomit, a walking talking calendar, a nappy changer, a climbing frame, a sanctuary. A keeper of secrets, an encyclopaedia, a witch when you have to tell them off, a natural unshaven beast because time isn’t a thing anymore and having a half shaven leg is worse than being hairy.

Being a Mum is laughing at your kids jokes when you don’t even understand what they just said, telling them “mmm delicious” when they bring home a cake they’ve made for you at nursery and it tastes worse than what I imagine arsehole tastes like. Pretending you can’t see them when they have their Harry Potter invisibility cloak on so they truly believe they’re invisible (even when you’re watching them crawl across the floor under said cloak like a slug). Telling them its SO late and they need to go to bed when its actually 18:30 and you just need some peace and quiet. Telling them “What?! I had NO idea!! How did you get so smart?!” When they tell you a fact you already know because they’re so excited about it. It’s rocking, swaying and jigging your baby for what feels like hours to get them to shut their eyes whist you watch yourself in the mirror wondering what the hell you’ve done to your life. It’s learning to eat any meal you have, faster than Usain Bolt’s 100m PB and then having the worst indigestion. Or accepting you’re just gonna be eating it cold/never.

Being a Mum is sucking all the bad dreams out your kids head before bed, blowing them away and replacing them with good ones via some weird cult like head massage – and them believing that will do the trick. It’s saying “don’t worry it’s fine” when they accidentally spill or break something instead of getting angry. It’s also It’s apologising if you’ve been moody yourself or you’ve snapped at them over something silly. It’s showing every emotion in front of them because god forbid your kid turns out to be somebody who bottles everything up as an adult. It’s making sure they go to sleep at night knowing how loved they are. It’s making sure they feel safe always. Its making them tell you how their day was, like clockwork every single school day even if they say they can’t remember. It’s going through that mental checklist 50,000,000 times wondering why your baby is still crying when you’ve ticked everything off said mental list. It’s deep breaths paired with a couple of tears in the bathroom when it gets too much. It’s boulder like tits when your milk comes in and any movement makes them feel like they’re going to fall off your body.

It’s feeling like your heart could actually explode out of your chest with love and pride from the simplest of things; a cheeky face, a drawing, an unprovoked cuddle, the words “I love you mummy” out of their little mouths. It’s infinite guilt/anxiety/loneliness and pep talks in your head. It’s sacrificing going out with your mates because your kid is ill and needs mummy cuddles. It’s doing the school run in your pyjamas and no bra hoping nobody notices, when you know full well they’re staring at you wondering if you’ve well and truly lost the plot. It’s saying goodbye to your brain as you knew it because everything goes in one ear and out the other and if you do remember something, its nothing short of a miracle.

It’s like spinning 10 plates on each hand at the same time. It’s consuming. It’s intense. But its the most incredible title any woman could wish for, and have the honour of holding. The most special job role. Most certainly my biggest achievement. I’m beyond proud to have the title of Mum/Mama/Mummy to my two wonderful boys. Big loves to all the other mothers (and parents) out there. Love J xxxxx

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