We definitely weren't meant to do this alone

Another key thread of my story is the complete transformation that happened to me, my life and my relationship when I became a mum. Motherhood was actually a total shock - and coming to it later in life, after having many years of freedoms, experiences and independence has been a major adjustment. 

You really do think that you will just have a baby and it will be an addition to the exact same life you have been living, much like adding a pet I guess? Ha ha ha, no. That was absolutely not my experience. Especially after having my second. Your entire life is obliterated, your whole sense of self decomposes slowly over days, weeks, months and years of sleep deprivation, being screamed at, and, in my unfortunate case, constant viruses. It is relentless. 

It’s hard to say it, but I am often not enjoying the reality of parenting. I obviously adore my kids, they are the best and it’s so cool to watch them evolve into fully fledged little humans. There’s never a doubt that I would do anything to protect and care for them, and I try really hard to be the best version of a mum I can possibly be (mostly, most days). But I think the day-to-day mechanics of having small children is just not for me??

I’m someone who needs to do research about things, and turn to experts for advice. So of course when faced with a looming birth and baby I consumed books and parenting accounts with rigour. This does not help, my friends. There is so much conflicting advice that only serves to confuse the fuck out of you and makes you second guess every instinct and reaction. Not to mention that I began my motherhood journey at the peak of gentle parenting mania. With countless voices shouting (or rather, speaking evenly and calmly) that you must regulate yourself and regulate your child, not raise your voice, reason calmly with this outrageously unreasonable gremlin who is pushing every button you didn't know you had. I thought I was calm! I thought I was patient! HA. 

The new-age pressure on mums to be endlessly patient, emotionally available, and perfectly regulated is frankly suffocating. Mum guilt follows you everywhere - did I snap too quickly? Should they be watching less TV? Am I traumatising them by losing my shit pretty much every day? Will they ever eat a vegetable? And then there's mum rage - white-hot fury that erupts when you're touched out, being constantly talked at, and just completely depleted. The worst part? This emotional labor, this constant self-monitoring and guilt, is not felt equally by men. Dads can lose their temper and it's just a "bad day." Mums lose it and it feels like we're failing at our most fundamental job? (On the subject of Mum rage, there is an excellent book of the same title by Minna Dubin which I highly recommend to anyone worried about their own)

The family dynamic is also largely out of your control, depending more on what temperament your kids come out with. You never know what you’re going to get! Some kids just cruise through every milestone and new situation with charming grins on their faces and an easy, carefree adaptability. Mia, my second born, had colic and didn’t stop screaming at me for about 4 months as a newborn, during which time Leo was really struggling with the fact that he had been usurped by a smaller, needier baby. I suspect my apparent abandonment caused him to double down on the burgeoning “terrible twos” he was fast approaching, resulting in constant battles over every little thing we had to do at any time. Add to this that we were constantly sick from particularly bad, post-covid rampant viruses at daycare, and I do feel there were 2-3 very traumatic years for us.

There were some glimpses of the happy, fun, and easy family I assumed would come naturally… We’d have a nice weekend and say to each other “Wow, that was actually enjoyable… that was… what I expected life would be like??”. But 9/10 we were counting down the hours to Monday morning and the relief that daycare and going to work would bring.

I’ve felt a lot of grief (and anger) over the fact that it is truly evident to me that we are absolutely designed to do this whole parenting thing collectively. Parenting together with other families (on playdates, on holidays, beach missions, zoo/museum trips) is so much easier than being alone with your kids. I envy inter-generational households and hippy communes. It would be so much easier on all levels if we were sharing the load every day - childcare, household chores, emotional support. Imagine if that could be shared amongst several families instead of just one other person?? 

The impact of motherhood on my relationship has also been notable. Despite our best intentions, we've easily fallen into stereotypical gender roles that neither of us wanted or expected. I became the default parent - the one who remembers appointments, school requirements, knows where everything is, does the shopping, and carries most, if not all the mental load of managing our children's entire existence. The devaluing of women's work becomes crystal clear when you realise that everything I do all day to keep our family and household functioning is invisible, unpaid, and somehow less important than paid work. Even when we both work, the unspoken assumption is that childcare and housework is primarily my responsibility, and I have no idea how to even begin to fix this.

It’s a relief to hear more and more people talking about the ugly side of parenting, because for a long time I felt like there must be something wrong with me. Like I’d made a huge mistake. Like I was doing it all wrong. Like I was a bad mum. I’ve spent a lot of time feeling guilty. Feeling ashamed. Feeling not good enough. I’m scared I’m going to look back and be mad at myself for not trying harder, doing better.

To be clear, I’ve worked through a lot of this stuff in therapy. I’m feeling much better and much less stressed than 1, 2, 3 years ago. But I still think about this a lot. It’s impossible not to! With the reality being that my whole life and priorities are necessarily focused on raising children for the next 15 or so years (and let’s be honest, it never actually ends. My mum still worries about me at 39!). It’s just so fascinating to me that I never could have foreseen any of this, no one possibly could.

Things are definitely getting easier, my kids are now mostly out of the toddler years, which are termed affectionately in the industry as “the trenches”. Looking back now, I can see that there were several very dark years that really impacted me, and that still trigger me, and I am so glad to have them behind me. 

I share this here for two reasons I suppose, the first is that this (huge) part of me really shapes my art in so many ways, least of which is the topics I am reckoning with at home and how they come through into my work - one of my recently sold works was titled The delightful "I'LL DO IT!" phase. My work is completely intuitive and based on everything I am experiencing at any given moment - so of course motherhood and my feelings about it are expressed. There is also the possibility that someone will read this and feel a little bit better, or a little bit less alone in their grappling with parenting and all of its conundrums and contradictions. You are not alone, darling! We are mainly all hating at least some (if not most) parts of it...

They say it goes so fast (not my experience thus far) and to enjoy every minute, but I simply cannot wait for my kids to need me less, and I’m actually done feeling bad about it.