OK, so I have been as silent as the grave and on this spooktacular day, thought I might revive what has become a cold, dead corpse of a blog into something with a semi-regular heartbeat. I have said semi-regular so don’t expect a post every day (or week – I’m pretty crap).
I totally have an excuse for my recent communicative void – I became a mum! I know, it is exciting isn’t it, especially as I loathed and detested being pregnant – it could certainly have been the 5 stone I put on, but who really knows 😉
So, being a mum… I did quite a bit of research when I was pregnant but mostly to do with breast feeding and all the iminent ‘mum’ stuff that scares the shit out of you until you realise that actually the thought is worse than the practice. Except of course in the case of a blocked milk duct – that is certainly worse in practice!
Anyway – MUST KEEP ON TRACK! What is the one thing that no one really mentions to you about becoming a mum? Sleepless nights – nope people go on about them until you can’t sleep for fear of the sleepless nights. Feeding is hard? Also a big talking point.
Are you well and truly intrigued, I reckon the revelation will not live up to the suspense I have so carefully crafted with my ramblings…
You have not changed! Simple I know and pretty damn obvious, but really it’s not. You are a mum now right? You are defined by the word, you live every day by the rule of a miniture drunk that screams if she is not given the cereal box that is twice her size. That must change you?
I suppose it has but also at heart, I am still that young girl who feels like a teenager, loves to smoke, drink and party and ultimately would absolutely LOVE to go get drunk on a boat while I partied with a cigarette loosely stuck to my dehydrated lip. It may be awful but it is the damn truth.
This is no way means I regret or even dislike being a mum, I actualy really enjoy it but that part of yourself you were before. The part with no cares or real responsibility beyond feeding yourself and providing a sort-of-clean shelter to inhabit is still there.
The conflict of the two sides of you is a strange one, you don’t want to give up that mental creature that was you, but you definitely don’t want that mental creature to bring up and shape your child. How does one go about marring the parts of oneself together, like the most f***ed up patchwork quilt no one wants near them?
No idea. If I find out I’ll let you know. For now I will keep my Hyde firmly under lock and key – or at least until Grandma has night duty 😉
In the great words of my non-commital father – I’ll see you when I see you!