Saturday, 9 January 2016

About being unable to sleep, about being a mum, and about fierce motherhood competition.

A super honest post because middle of night.

I'm pretty tired. I have what much more experienced mums call 'a good baby'. I'm tired because I don't sleep well at night. I like to make sure Natalie is okay, even with my favourite Relax Rain app I hear her wiggling or sighing in her dreamland state. And that's okay. I have been told to sleep when the baby sleeps, or to not sleep when the baby sleeps. I have been told to eat better, to sleep more, to have what my generation refers to as 'me time', to exercise more, to rest my knee, to let my bubba cry, to have routine, to do stuff outside of being a mum. I haven't been told anything about how I still look pregnant but I'm sure as hell that's been batted around a bit. No, I don't need any advice in that area either.

The thing is, that although I am ridiculously (and self imposed) sleep deprived, I love being a mum. I didn't know this kind of love even existed. I love her more than words can say. I am a mamma bear of the best and worst kind. My life has changed, completely, rapidly and happily. I feel no need to vent about how frustrated I am about something my new baby has done, because nothing makes me feel that way.

I don't love all the things that are attached to motherhood. I hate the competitiveness. I hate the advice you don't want. I hate that I feel I have to justify my actions and choices and beliefs. I hate that superiority that mums of older children sometimes have. I hate random strangers telling me things about my child or offering suggestions. None of this is about actual children though, and it says more about those people than anything else.

A lot of this stuff has been bothering me for a long time. I don't want to just fall into some deep dark hole, or worse, deactivate my Facebook account because everything is driving me a little cuckoo bananas.