Parenting is a lot of things: hard, frustrating, rewarding, exhausting, happy, depressing, disgusting; and everything in between. Our children fill us with pride, make us cry and question our authority to parent. There are highs and lows, plenty of wine and more tears than I’d like to disclose.
But parenting is….
Parenting is: choosing between listening to a mega meltdown tantrum OR the same One Direction song 16087 times
For me, I choose the latter. It’s literally one or the other. I can’t calm him down and the longer it goes on, the more vicious he becomes. Yes I hate the song, yes I know all the words, yes I sing along. I would rather listen to it than hear his hideous scream for 15 minutes. He’s even learned how to find whatever is closest and peg it at my head, because obviously, I don’t clean my car out. He’ll grow out of it (fingers crossed).
Parenting is: putting yourself last
I know I’m not alone in this one. The amount of times I go into the shops with the intention to buy myself just one jumper (because let’s be honest, I have wine stains on all of mine) and I come out with 4 new homeware items, 6 new jumpers for the kids, 17 pairs of shoes in 3 consecutive sizes for the kids, a few new tops for the husband and 92 new Shopkins. By the time I realise how much I’m going to spend, I CBF’d to spend a cent more. I get it, kids are growing out of their clothes all the time. They need a new pair of shoes every 3 days and I am running out of money trying to keep up with their size. Hence why they are often nude. #moneysaver
Parenting is: drinking loads of wine to try and forget how much responsibility you have
So much responsibility. Too much responsibility. I’m not old enough for this. I still think farts are funny.
Parenting is: locking the bathroom door, pretending to poop so you can have 2 minutes alone
Don’t lie. You do this too (I’m looking at you, Dads). Sometimes I even sneak upstairs and hide in my bedroom with chocolate. I pretend not to hear them when they’re screaming out for me and come back downstairs like ‘Oh hi babe, sorry I didn’t hear you, what’s up?’. I know some people can wait until their kids are in bed, I can not.
Parenting is: pretending to have gastro when you’re actually hungover
I have had to use this more often than not. However, they are now old enough to know I’m a bullshit artist. I wake up smelling like a pub and they ask ‘Did Mummy drink too much wine last night?’ GO AWAY AND BRING ME BACON. I can’t wait until they can drive and I can make them go and get me Maccas.
Parenting is: saying ‘don’t lick that’ more than 7 times a day
My son licks the most inappropriate things. I’ve had to stop telling him to do it and just roll my eyes. I’m tired of my own voice and he never listens. Let’s hope one day he licks poo and learns a valuable lesson #freeparentingtip
Parenting is: baby wipes
I baby wipe everything from my armpits to the bathroom benches. Not with the same wipe of course… Okay, maybe sometimes. I buy more packets of baby wipes than actual cleaning products. Baby wipes are magical, they’re such a multipurpose item. They clean bodies, walls, floors, taps, inside the car, outside the car. The list is endless.
Parenting is: hiding the only working iPad so there are no punch ups
We used to have more than one but we also have a set of stairs and apparently the iPads like to fly down them. I know, I know ‘first world problems’ but have you met my children? The only time they are quiet and sitting down is on an iPad.
Parenting is: being in a constant battle of sleep vs alone time
I love my kids with all my heart and soul. They are
exhausting amazing. If I allowed it, they would stay awake until 11 p.m with me. All I want to do is sit on the couch and do sweet FA. Is that so hard to ask? But that means that I choose alone time over sleep. Which sucks because I haven’t slept since 2009.
Parenting is: being sat on
Every day of my life- sat on.
Parenting is: rewarding
I’m not an overly emotional person, I’m often told I have Resting Bitch Face. But when I see my kids perform better than I could ever imagine, I cry with pride. They are little legends and I am so proud of the little people they have become. I mean, they can still be brats but they are my brats and I am proud.
As I said, parenting is a lot of things; but most of all it’s rewarding. Life is full on but I couldn’t imagine my life without the chaos that is my children. How else would I get to frequent the hospital and become friends with the hot doctors? My kids mean everything to me.