Mothering For Two Years
This is just a bit of a recap post really, nothing groundbreaking or specific, more just ‘oh I’ve been a parent for two years!’ ramble. It seems utterly, utterly crazy that Milo’s been in our lives for two whole years already, while at the same weird that two years ago we were just a twosome. We talk about this often and I’m sure we’re not alone; what on earth did we do with all our time? Every free minute nowadays is taken up by moving knives out of reach, working out what plastic thing I’m sat on or wishing I didn’t have to play catch with Milo while taking my morning poo. Why wasn’t two-years-ago-me fluent in at least four languages? I try to kid myself I probably had hairless legs like a shiny baby seal but I know that’s so far from the truth. I just wasted time. Like some sort of massive dick.
Anyway, so 729 days ago Greg and I had taken a 5 mile walk with the dogs to shift the baby from his womb cave; I’d even run up a hill which was more of skyscraper and as I waddled back through our garden like a weary Pavarotti impersonator, my waters started leaking. I told Milo about this on the much shorter dog walk he and I took together earlier and when he wasn’t donking me on throat with a stick, he looked a tiny bit interested. It’s still so surreal; not so long ago, you were in my actual body, now I’m carrying you in my arms as we sing Old Macdonald.
Even for the first year, I’m not so sure we were settled. There’s so much to learn isn’t there? It’s not like there isn’t a tonne of new experiences that comes with a toddler, but when your baby’s a proper teeny tiny bag of flesh, everything is a guessing game and terrifying. For a long while there’s not really anything to them personality wise other than a toothy grin and the frequent repetition of ‘agoo’ and after three, four months you hope you’re back to normal but you’re probably not. You’re muddling through but everything’s so different.
I feel like over the past eight months, we’ve claimed some of our old selves back. I’m not sure if it’s because I finally feel comfortable to venture out with Milo left in the company of family or friends, or because I actually know if he’s not happy with something he’ll just tell me. But I feel content both as a mum and a woman now, it’s nice. If you’re wondering whether or not that feeling ever comes back and you’re still wrestling with a small baby, please take some comfort in knowing that yes, it does. It just takes some people longer.
(Milo, 3 weeks fresh. Also, those are Greg’s hairy thighs)
The four month hair loss (WTAF by the way, no-one warned me about that), the slightly less taut tummy, the mum-hunch, the more impressive mum-arms, the days you can’t remember when you last washed your hair, itching your head to find five days worth of dry shampoo clinging to the underside of your nails, wishing you could just sleep for two, three, four hours. It happens to all of us. And then gradually it ebbs away, to be replaced with Peppa Pig distractions, the loudest toys known to humanity and hearing your child say some of the cutest sentences in existence. They start to be independent which means you regain teeny tiny moments to yourself. Up until Milo was big enough for the Jumperoo, he had to be held by someone. With a boyfriend who was often out the house and living in the middle of nowhere, that someone was ordinarily me. Now I can ask him to run and get me things, he’s happy to be plonked in front of the TV or read books; this finally means I’m free to have two whole hands available to clasp a mug. It’s amazing!
I’ll probably bore you all to death each and every year with a recap of motherhood even though I bore you all to death each and every day on Instagram (I like to keep it on the regular folks) but when you hear other mums say it goes fast, it really bloomin’ does. I’m not about to tell you to saviour every moment because savouring being pissed on when you’ve just changed the sheets or that night when your baby cried for five hours is ridiculous. Not everything’s fun and not everything makes you feel good, or like you’re coping. But after two years I can say with all the rubbish comes all the fun, things do get more manageable and you do find yourself getting on with it and becoming more human. Moments have sped by and of course I find it difficult to wrap my head around the fact I no longer have a baby and instead have a toddler; I feel like two years ago I was 24 and single, not 26 and ready to burst. Two years ago is AGES AGO. AAAAAAGES. It’s a bit like when you realise 30 years ago was 1990 rather than 1970 and it’s just ridiculous.
Milo’s two tomorrow and I’ll try not to get all mum-motional. He’s the best human I’ve been lucky enough to grow and I look forward to all the adventures ahead of us; the crap and the amazing. Hang in there all you mums trying your very best to weather the early day storm and congratulations to all of those who’ve made it to the second year.