Ever since we brought the baby home from the hospital I don’t seem to have stopped uttering the phrase ‘I just need to…’ or, more recently, ‘Mummy just needs to…’. Needs to what? What is it that Mummy ‘just’ needs to do? Well, take your pick:
Mummy just needs to: do the washing up, put the washing in/out/away, take her rubber gloves off before picking you up, put you in the play pen while she just… sweeps the tiles, cooks up some gourmet baby food and makes Daddy a cup of tea/eggs/a sandwich. At some point Mummy just needs to get dressed and finally she just needs to go for a poo.
They do tell you what it is going to be like. I mean other mothers, your own mother, sisters, friends, they do warn about the agony of labour, the shock of the new 24/7 mummying job, BREASTFEEDING, the lack of sleep, the temporary insanity and loss of self. However, it seems that nothing can really prepare you for the incredible reality of being a mother. This must be why I have heard some new mums ask ‘why did nobody warn me it was going to be this hard/painful?’ Seriously, how can you describe the pain of childbirth well enough to actually prepare someone for it? Until you are living the dream it is all just academic.
It is hard to come to terms with the chaos of it all. For me one of the shocking things becoming a mum was having my daily chores doubled, tripled, quadrupled, while having my capacity to carry them out reduced to next to nothing. Of course I know that motherhood is not all about the hard work. Bibsey is a babe of the first water and has given us more joy than anyone could have adequately put into words for me.
So, right now, I guess Mummy just needs to clear a path through the toys, get dinner on, de-gunge the high chair in preparation for breakfast carnage and get herself (and Totally Smitten Daddy) fed and watered before bedtime and the dream feed.
OR in a parallel universe what Mummy just needs is a massage, a long steaming bath with a chilled bottle of cava, a good nights sleep and a shag I guess.
