New Mummy Blog: What Motherhood Means To Me
It’s the little, everyday things that really sum up motherhood for me. They might not be the biggest or the most obvious, but they’re real life:
Being more excited about how excited my daughter will be when she sees her Snow White costume for World Book Day than I’ve ever been about anything I’ve worn myself. Except my wedding dress. Possibly. It’s a close call.
[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]
Having a phone so clogged up with the 7,500 photos I’ve taken of my children since they were born that it can barely cope with making a call. But being unable to delete a single one of them.
Being told on a Friday you need to make an Easter bonnet by Monday for the nursery Easter parade. And nailing it - with only one glue/toddler disaster and an amazing neighbour who happened to have a surplus of fluffy chicks.
[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]
Drawing a different animal on the chalkboard every night after the kids have gone to bed, because I did it once and they loved it and now expect it every morning. And not being offended when they rush to beat each other to be the one to wipe it off.
Sharing my own childhood favourites with them - my tatty old bear Ben, Disney’s The Little Mermaid, Mog The Forgetful Cat - and seeing it all anew through their eyes.
Always leaving a public loo with wet hands because my daughter is scared of the noise the hand drier makes.
Replying to texts and emails hours, if not days, late because I can’t get my phone out without the baby trying to eat it.
Insisting on going in to check on them every night before I go to bed because they look so beautiful, perfect and peaceful. And because I still can’t shake that mum paranoia that they’ll stop breathing in their sleep.
Pretending that I’m letting them skip bath time as an extra special, big treat when it’s really because I want to get bedtime done and dusted and get downstairs to a G&T.
Hiding in the kitchen to eat the chocolate brownie that I don’t want to have to share.
Beaming with pride when strangers go out of their way to come over to our table in a restaurant to remark on how well behaved my children are (when they want to be).
Inwardly celebrating that girl power is alive and well when my daughter is the first one down a big scary slide that all her little boy friends are too scared to try.
[Copyright: Yahoo/Claire Sparks]
Being proud of my babies’ individual characters and trying not to worrying that number two isn’t walking at 15 months when number one was on the move at 11. Instead, learning to be grateful that two is more laid back and easy going and will get there in his own time. And loving his cute knee-shuffle in the meantime.
Feeling the fear and doing it anyway, because I don’t want my children growing up with the same worries or phobias I had/have. And because I don’t want them to think Daddy’s the only one brave enough to catch a big spider.
