So today is a shit day, and I mostly feel like making a bucket of coffee and sitting in a very dark hole, with a box of mint matchmakers and quietly rocking for a bit. If Kobe could just come along and chuck in some scraps at regular intervals I think I’d be quite content with that arrangement for a few days.
I feel as thought we have reverted back to life with a newborn, B isn’t feeling 100% and definitely not sleeping 100% (more like 15%) and I’m feeling a bit like a delicate flower that’s just been peed on by a large dog. I’ve taken this week off to catch up on life admin, studying, sorting out my hovel of a house and doing some Christmas shopping – as it stands I’ve bought 1 Christmas present (for myself), done 4 loads of washing and chased around after a small child. So I thought I would be really productive now I’ve finally got him to go down for a nap and… write a blog.
Oh, and my lovely mum also treated me to lunch today. We went to the Pink Cabbage in Mayfield, which is absolutely bloody lovely and oh so tolerant of tiny, noisy people who insist on making everyone within a 5 mile radius aware of their presence. Just to keep in line with the food chat, I had a toasted Italian sandwich consisting of loads of parma ham, pesto and cheese – delicious and definitely brightened up a bit of a bleak day.
While we were out, my mum got chatting to one of the ladies that works in there – you literally cannot take this woman anywhere without such an interaction occurring. Absolutely no stranger danger. When you’re in a hurry, it is hugely irritating. When you’re out for a leisurely, sanity saving lunch it’s actually kind of nice and makes me a bit grateful for the fact that she isn’t a moody old bat. Given the opportunity though, I’d tone her down a notch first thing in the morning.
So as I was wrangling Bodes from smearing his fingers everywhere, they got chatting about being a parent, as you do… and more to the point about being a mum, and how hard it is sometimes – I think they could spot the slightly desperate look in my eyes.
Which got me thinking about life as a parent when my mum was a young mum, so I thought I would weigh it up in the vein hope that by the time I’m finished I will be feeling slightly chirpier – I’m going for the grass is not always greener approach today to see if it works:
- I was a bit of an arsehole as a teenager, currently Bodes is not…
- Back then, parenting was a vocation and one that you had to be good at. There was no Facebook or social media to find other mum’s moaning about having a crappy day too
- There was no Google – in the early hours this has been a godsend, although Dr Google really scares the shit out of me sometimes
- There was certainly no Nescafe Azera
- My mum doesn’t drink – enough said
- There was no Sainsburys, or big supermarkets which meant a) no affordable childrens clothes and b) edible foodstuffs of the calorific variety were really expensive – she actually had to sew our clothes?! This took time, and I wasn’t always grateful – arsehole child once again.
- We lived in Africa – que hot, chubby child who wouldn’t wear a hat
- Costa didn’t exist – not in Africa anyway
- No baby massage, so she never got taught how to massage a constipated tummy. This resulted in me having an earbud shoved up my bum when needed. Horrific for all parties involved.
- No CBeebies – I’d struggle without Octonauts, let alone Bodes. Who knew swordfish can heat up their eyes?
- No mobile phones – no sneaking off for a ‘poo’ to check your watsapp and Facebook
- No ebay or next day delivery- actually paying full price for things, as well as having to leave the house to shop when all you want to do is stay inside in your pj’s with dirty hair, watching the Lion King
So actually, when you look at it like that… I’m over it. Mum, you raised a child in some pretty severe conditions compared to today’s standards.
Oh and literally, I have no idea how I nearly forgot this – non-disposable nappies. I am actually bowing down as I type.