10 reasons I’m rocking motherhood
I thought I’d make one of my last posts of 2016 something postive, since 2016 has been a shit of a year. Well, globally, anyway – we’ve had to deal with Trump and Brexit and police shootings and Zika and terrorist attacks and Fuller House.
Personally, 2016 wasn’t that bad. I got to watch the Popple go from a baby to a walking, talking and (thankfully) sleeping toddler. We took trips to the New York, Ireland and Berlin. I ate an almost insane amount of cake. I made loads of great blog friends. I’ve had worse years.
Pat from White Camellias tagged me in the #RockingMotherhood tag, which is a chance for us mothers to celebrate how we’re totally kicking ass at this whole motherhood thing. It’s easy to feel guilty about all the things we feel like we’re messing up – let’s shout about the good stuff for once.
So, on that note, here are 10 reasons I’m rocking motherhood:
- I can get the Popple to eat fruits and vegetables. On most days. Only some of those fruits are actually Bear fruit paws, and only some of those vegetables have to be hidden in sauces.
- I’m never, ever late to pick her up from nursery, because nothing at work is more important than seeing that grubby little toddler face after 8 hours apart.
- I can often avert a toddler meltdown disaster by singing. My voice is average at best, but damn, there’s very little that a rendition of Five Little Ducks or Do Re Mi won’t fix.
- I can do pretty much anything with one hand while balancing a toddler on my hip – even slicing bread, and that shit is HARD.
- I can make really, really boring things into games that keep her entertained for ages. You know what we did the other night? Took a bunch of straws out of a plastic bag and then put them back in again. And repeat. And repeat. She was enthralled.
- I’m still breastfeeding at 18 months. That’s not to knock people who couldn’t (or didn’t want to) breastfeed, but I’m proud that we’ve managed to keep the whole boobin’ thing going for this long.
- I’m teaching her to love books. Sometimes she just wants to pull them all off the shelf. Sometimes she gets impatient halfway though a story and just walks away. Sometimes we have to read the same book over and over again until I want to shout, “Listen, I really don’t give a toss what the brown bear sees.” We’re not there yet, but it’s a start on the right path.
- I put her needs first, even when it hurts. Like, physically. Carrying her around has pretty much destroyed my back, but she needs to be close to me. Allowing her pull on my hair is going to leave me with bald spots, but it comforts her. Letting all 20 pounds of her walk across my torso is probably pretty bad for my internal organs, but it makes her laugh, so this is a daily game now. Sorry, stomach.
- When she puked all over herself recently, I didn’t think twice about gathering her in my arms and giving her a big, squishy vomit hug – and this was the worst kind of vomit, all big chunks of very recognisable foodstuffs.
- I give this girl everything – all my love, sanity, patience and affection. It’s all hers. Take what you need, Popple – there’s plenty more where that came from.
Here are the rules:
- Thank the blogger that tagged you and link to their blog.
- List 10 things you believe make you a good mother (this is just a guideline. It can be more or less than 10.)
- Tag 3 – 5 bloggers to join in the #RockingMotherhood Tag.
- Grab the #RockingMotherhgood badge and add it to your post or sidebar