Right. It’s the middle of the night and I’m blogging on my phone which is going to drive me nuts because of my horrendous autocorrect, but I’m talking to myself in my head, so that ship might have sailed. The words need to get out. So here they are.
I’m nearly 6 months deep into this being a mother thing and oh my gosh kid can you just crawl already?! No one warned me how angry they get when they can’t get something. My whole day is just relocating toys he threw somewhere he didn’t mean to so that he doesn’t do that thing where he screams so loud it makes this echoing sound in my eardrums. And telling him to sleep. Ah, sleep. I used to like sleep. I still like sleep, but I like coffee more. Sleep must’ve been angry I was cheating on it with coffee and delivered me what some people call ‘sleep regression’. I prefer the term ‘torture’. Because at 3am when my child decides that ‘that’s enough sleep for me’, I consider many things that I shan’t include on here because… jail… but anyway, I see why sleep deprivation is a form of torture. Whoever came up with that had kids. I am 100 per cent certain.
Now for those who laugh when I say ‘just crawl already’ like things will be easier, I beg you to refrain from terms like ‘just you wait’ and ‘enjoy it while he’s not moving’. Because I like my innocent, unsuspecting bliss. Leave me alone Karen!
Speaking of the ‘Karen’s’ of the world… I actually saw someone the other day comment about how your kid won’t be traumatised for life if you don’t let them cry for more than 3 minutes. Ok, cool, sure there’s some science to back that up (I’ll come back to this), but what made me actually LOL was the fact she thought a mum could achieve anything needed in 3 minutes to then race back and pick up screaming kid. Like, no, my morning poo definitely takes longer than 3 minutes and I’ll just pay for the damn therapy if he’s traumatised because my shower took 4 minutes and eating took 10.
I shouldn’t joke. But I need to. I cannot, like cannot, stress how actually f****** insane it is how judgy people are! So I sleep train. And there’s articles that will tell you I’m a horrible person who’s traumatising my child. Cool, whatever, something will at some stage might as well get some sleep at the same time (kind of joking). And no I don’t lock him in a room and leave him to cry, but yes there is crying but there was crying from me too before and now it’s just from him so I personally think that’s a win, but there’s LOTS of ‘Karen’s’ who don’t. Because the unfortunate thing about studies and science is you can really find just about anything to back up what you want to do/think/achieve. Because as many articles that say I’m traumatising him, also say I’m doing great stuff! And there’s plenty to say you’re coddling/ruining/destroying your child/society if you don’t let them cry. So, my conclusion, do what you gotta do to stay sane, stay happy, and be a responsive parent who doesn’t resent their child. Your kid will actually be fine. And if not, therapy is government funded (probably a joke in poor taste but hey, that’s me).
So I go back to work in 3 weeks. Wow! Eek! If you’ve stayed with me this far through this blog you will probably not hate me when I say I’ve also stopped breastfeeding (mostly) and I feel guilty, sad, elated, free, and weird about it. I totally pictured myself being a pumping, breast feeding machine that was unstoppable even once back at work. But you know what, I just want my boobs and my time and my body back. I gave this kid a full 12 months of ALL of me. So I don’t feel ashamed that honestly, when push came to shove, I’m really glad I started formula feeding. I finally feel ‘sexy’ again because I’m not freaking out that milk is about to fire out of my nipples at any given time. Not sexy. Or professional either. People don’t tell you about the tops being soaked in milk and the panic when you’ve run out of breast pads and how suddenly your boobs are no longer sexy, and that’s good because we want to normalise breastfeeding and stop constantly sexualising women’s bodies, but also… I want to be sexy still! And no one tells you about mastitis and how it feels like you’re dying and your boobs ache sooooo much and you’re all feverish. And the amount of energy it DRAINS out of you allllllll the time. And the hitting and the biting from the child. Like a mini little vice grip that just rips at ya. And people go awww but it’s so beautiful and natural and sure, sometimes, but most of the time it’s plain uncomfortable and painful and awkward.
So work! I got lost there sorry… back on track. I’m so pumped I was offered the position I’ve been wanting for a while now, and part time! So I go back permanently 3 days a week and I could not be more excited. I’m not excited for the commute and the even less sleep, and the early mornings and late nights but I’m excited to do something I am so passionate about again. I want my son to grow up seeing a strong, capable, independent mum who does what she loves and doesn’t apologise for it. I want him to value that in a partner; celebrate her success and what she wants for her life. He better be all about that equality man!
On a related but also different note, I’m fairly confident the first sentence my child says with contain a swear word. I’m trying, I really am, but Sams job and my job… it’s just normal, and it’s so hard to be like ‘nope, raising a quality human here’… because he has my sense of humour so I’m well aware it’ll be a steady downhill decline once words come out. Man, the kid ripped his IV line out when he was in hospital and laughed… he laughed! And then screamed when I wouldn’t let him eat his blood covered hand. Yes, bad mum ruining the fun. He also has a habit of laughing when people talk about death on TV and I promise it’s not because we laugh, we don’t! He just sits there giggling. Should I be concerned for my life? Pretty sure he’ll be the toddler who I wake up to just staring at me. Send help.
It is odd, feeling like I’m raising a child in a pandemic. The world feels isolated and cold and a bit scary at times. We have this perfect little crazy ‘normal’ bubble where very little has changed but it’s scary to think he could grow up in a world where we don’t talk to each other in the supermarket or help someone with groceries or we all wear masks because we’re all afraid someone will infect us (which is a very real fear). But, I also remind myself that maybe this also means he’ll grow up in a world where we’ve learnt the value of connection and keeping life simple and not having to do a million things; keeping life stripped back and simple.
So, here we are. I’m still going. My kid is rolling, babbling, eating solids, he’s growing so so fast and he’s wanting to explore his world and he gets frustrated and feels all the feelings and that’s actually really cool to see. Terrifying too because I don’t really know how to foster that but I’ll learn. In the meantime I’ll keep using a pacifier so I still have some kind of hearing into my old age. Parenting at the end of the day boils down to love, patience, experiences for growth, and just being there and showing up the best you can with what you’ve got. Kids are resilient, funny, and a really amazing part of life. So, my next adventure is being a working mum and I cannot wait figure this all out.
Peace out
The irony kid 
This is very annoying to read – you come across very negative and scattered. And it is boring – even with the shit tone of information squashed in. Chill lady not every scattered thought and opinion needs to be on word press. My advice- less time writing and more time parenting.
Well aren’t you a fucking delight Karen. Maybe instead of worrying about other people’s lives or bothering to read about them you should piss off and focus on your own personality and sense of humour.