It has been Mother’s Day. Almost over now. A whole day dedicated to the awesomeness of mothers. It kind of makes me feel sorry for other random relatives who don’t get special days. Like, uncles. Second cousins. Step-sisters-in-law-twice-removed. How BAD they must feel. They have lost in life. The losers.
But yeah, mothers are cool. You don’t need me to tell you that. I have been tagged in a Mothering Sunday meme by the pocket-sized Mummy Glitzer and the urbane Middle-Aged Matron. I am obliging them. Cos I’m nice like that. And I got a massive bunch of flowers today. So I’m in a good mood.
Describe motherhood in three words…
Oh Jeezus helpme.
Does your experience differ from your mother’s? How?
Mainly because of the dinosaurs. I don’t have to wrestle velociraptors on a day-to-day basis whilst preparing a meal for a toddler and soothing a crying baby. And the fur bikinis she wore must’ve chafed. So, I’m grateful that dinosaurs are now extinct, and all that.
What’s the hardest thing about being a mum?
Guilt. Being judged by other mums. The neverending battle with bodily fluids. Shit.
What’s the best thing?
How has it changed you?
Fundamentally. Quintessentially. Irrevocably. Terrifyingly quickly. And I have drunk more alcohol in the last 16 months than have ever done in my life before.
What do you hope for your children?
What do you fear for them?
What makes it all worthwhile?
Naked wrestling on the bed. Oh wait, you mean motherhood? Um. Naked wrestling on the bed. Moo’s giggles are the best noise in the world ever.
I’d like to stress that SHE is naked. I am not. We have a giggle pre-bathtime. One day she will shit on my duvet. Then the naked wrestling will stop.
Happy Mo Day, all you Mo Fo’s.