When I was little I always knew I wanted to be a mum. I didn’t care about a career or going to university etc, I just wanted to be a mum.
But I knew I wanted to have kids early. I didn’t want to be an older mum. My parents are. I’m 28 and my dad is 72 and my mum 63. All my life I have been asked by people if they are my grandparents and I hated it. I just wanted younger parents like all my friends. Am feeling it still now because I want them to be able to run around and do things with Holly more, but they can’t. Dad has just had both of his knees replaced. And they have other associated health problems too.
So, I decided I wanted to have kids before I turned 25. I had to wait until I was married because I know my parents would have totally frowned upon having a baby before marriage. I was totally clucky from about 20-24. I joined baby websites and eagerly posted in the “waiting to TTC” groups. Until I got married at 24, and went off the pill. And became pregnant a few months later. At last! I was about to have everything I always wanted!
A gorgeous little baby to call my own. Someone to snuggle. Someone to love. Someone to teach things to and mould them into a perfect little adult. I always wanted a girl, and when I found out we were having one I thought I was so lucky, like I’d won the lottery. I couldn’t wait to be able to do some of the things my mum used to do with me when I was little. And go on mummy/daughter outings etc.
I was going to be the best mum. My kids would listen to me. The would eat their food nicely. I wouldn’t ever hurt them. Or yell at them. I would always be there for them and always have time for them if they wanted to do something, I would be there. I would be a SAHM and have a perfect household, always doing baking and activities with my kids. They would be perfect sleepers in their own beds. They would be toilet trained early, just like me because I was the “best baby” according to my parents. So I thought my daughter would be just like me.
Nope. It all comes down to the parents. And obviously my parents were better at it than me.
Now I’m the mum I never wanted to be. The mum who yells all the time. The mum who has smacked her daughter. The mum who got so tangled up in depression and wanted to leave her family behind and run away. The mum who would rather spend time on facebook etc instead of playing with blocks or drawing a picture. The mum who puts the TV on in order to get anything done around the house or have any time for herself. The mum who gives too much junk food. HOW did I get here?! I’m doing everything wrong! This is not how I wanted things to go!
You know what breaks my heart at the moment? When I end up yelling at her for something and she stands there and cries for her nana. “Nannnny” she cries. Or lately when she’s hurt herself she cries for nana as well. Instead of mummy. The mummy who is supposed to make things all better, now makes things worse. My daughter would rather be with nana than her mum. Well, she would probably be better off there anyway.
I am not cut out for this job. 😦