Motherly musings



Mother’s Day seems to be one of those celebrations you love or hate. Personally, I love it, because my kids make an effort, I do nothing, and adhere to my “I make the rules for Mother’s Day” rule!

Today meant breakfast out at a cafe of my choice, and then a competition of Uno which resulted in yelling and general profanity, resulting in my brother winning and pissing off my daughter until she won a hand, and order was restored.

For many people Mother’s Day is painful. Perhaps you didn’t have children. Perhaps you were raised by a shitty mother. Perhaps you are a shitty mother. I get it.  Mother’s Day isn’t for everyone.

Mothering isn’t easy but then neither is brain surgery. Mothering isn’t always rewarding, but then neither is being a paramedic. In my opinion, mothering is just another job where it is vital you don’t mess it up as there are human lives in the balance. It’s  just another part of who you are but it’s not everything. I am happy that I had kids, but I also think I would find happiness in being childless. My life is good with and without children.

It’s just another part of who you are but not everything. I am happy that I had kids, but I also think I would find happiness in being childless. My life is good with or without children.

I think it’s vital to have a life outside your life as a parent. It changes the way your children look at you. Respected, admired and being a decent role model are all good things to be.

Sometimes I look at women who make their whole existence being a parent and I worry for them. What happens when their children leave home? What will they do? What do they put their energy into? Because children leave.

First, they leave emotionally and then they leave physically and there’s not a damn thing you should do about it and nor should you. That’s your job. Show them the ropes, then wipe their faces, and smooth down their hair and send them on their way.

Two close friends of my children both reached out and said thank you to me today. For being there for them more than their own mothers who didn’t know how to deal with what was happening in their children’s lives during a shitty time.  For listening, for getting them through the worst times of their life. I accepted their thanks but reminded them that their mothers are human. They did the best they could with what they had at the time. Not all mothers can deal with dirty subjects like suicide, and abuse. But then I’ve never waded in the shallows of life. I like my waters dark and deep, where I make friends with the sharks and listen to the whale songs on Spotify.

But God knows I’ve failed as much as I’ve succeeded in parenting, as I have in everything in my life.

I like being a mother to my kids. I like being a writer. I like being a sister. I like being a friend, a daughter, and a shit stirrer. I like being me. No role takes precedence over another. I just make a fuss of Mother’s Day so I don’t have to unpack the dishwasher. Why? Because above all else, I’m a lazy bitch!

Happy lazy bitch day. xx






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