Super Sonic   +  mothering

What Kind of Mummy Did You Plan To Be?

'Sup peoples,

Now, that's a strange kind of question, isn't it...? Not what kind of mummy (or mommy, as the case may be) are you now, but what kind of mummy did you plan to be? You know. Way back then. In the BC. The Before Children.

A Good one, I bet.

That's not to say that you're not a good mummy, of course. I'm willing to bet you are, most of us are. We do OK, most days. But back in the BC, I bet the plans for Good Mummy-ness went way beyond what you're achieving in your everyday Real Life at the moment.

I know mine did. My plans were huge. Not that I thought that at the time, they seemed easily attainable. To birth without an epidural or a c-section. To breastfeed. To be calm and patient. To have a toddler that ate raw vegetables. Or cooked vegetables. Or any kind of vegetables, really.

I think, back in the BC, I had plans for a craft activity every single day. Every. Single. Day. (Shush, down in the back, the people that actually do this. I have my hands over my ears and I'm not listening). I had plans for cooking muffins with grated carrot. Plans for bedtime stories before every nap. Plans for a clean, tidy house that smelled of lavender and fresh coffee, with elegantly scattered rattan baskets, stocked with educational wooden toys. Not enough toys to rot the children's brains, of course. Just enough to provide optimal stimulation.

While we're speaking of stimulation and brain rot; in the BC, TV was a very dirty word.

But we ain't in the BC anymore. Welcome to In Real Life Parenting- frenzied, shrill, disorganized and just hangin' on in there..

The reality of my parenting is so very different to how my plans were laid out. I did birth without an epidural, but only because it happened too quickly to allow one. I narrowly avoided a c-section with my first birth. We breastfeed, but that was thanks to nipple shields and sheer stubbornness. All those plans, not-quite-perfect already. And that was only the first few days.

Despite my best home-made-puree'd-vegetable-intentions, I am the mother of a toddler who will only eat yoghurt, sultanas, bananas, bread and tomato sauce. We do craft, on the days when my will is strong enough. It lasts all of 40 seconds before my little man is either drawing enthusiastically on the table, the wall or his sister; or has meandered off in search of more interesting things, like the dog's bed or the rocks in the bottom of the water fountain.

I cook packet mix cakes that smell like strawberry Hubba Bubba, rather than carrot and apple muffins. Bedtime stories are hit and miss. Between my two children, they own every plastic, talking, walking singing Fisher Price toy ever produced. And my Chop is obsessed with the TV and watches a good hour of the brain-sucker a day. All these, cannot be good things. Is it any wonder I know so much about the gosh-darn Wiggles?

And as for calm, kind and patient Mummy? Well, I am happy to say she is here most days. But other days Cranky Pants Mummy is most definitely lady of the manor. Shouting and grumbling all the way.

Things definitely have not gone as planned.

I like to tell myself that it's all alright. Goodness knows, there are people out there doing far worse things to their children than I. But then, other days, I sink into the required guilt and tepid regret. Where have I gone wrong? Is it too late to fix this slide, this tumble from the BC Parenting Plan? Does it even need fixing at all?

The answer? I'm still not sure. I love my kids. And they love me. I think, maybe, that means we're doing OK.