subarugirl
Banned
Why is being a Mum so flipping difficult? There you are, having a lovely life - and suddenly you're pregnant. It's trouble from the off. Morning sickness, constipation, heartburn, swollen ankles... That soon-to-be firstborn is using you as an assault course. Your kidneys as her football, your ribcage her xylophone, your pelvic bones her parallel bars. After 9 months, you're ready for some joy after all this pain. Hah! Did anyone sit you down and explain that forcing out a nine-pounder is so NOT going to be a bed of roses? And this is where the fun really starts. After countless hours of pain, you're handed a screwed-up bundle of screaming, pooing, spewing joy! Trust me, birth was the easy bit!! You go home and your home turns into hell. Night becomes day, baby glued to your shoulder, stain of curdled milk down your back and the old man's sleeping on the settee. Six months later, you've forgotten what sleep is, how it feels to wear a pair of high heels and even your own name. Soon there are no buttons on the tv remote, water in the speakers, the wallpaper's a hundred new colours and curtains hanging by a thread. Then - hurray! She learns how to use a potty - as a hat! And your shoes as a potty. So you're fat, bedraggled, stretchmarked, saggy-boobed, bleary-eyed, live in a pigsty and now you have to go barefoot. Then you hit the terrible twos. Where the word 'no' has no meaning. Don't go shopping, don't go to the park, don't visit anyone. To be safe, don't sleep! You forget your own birthday. Not that it matters. You're as old as you feel, right? That'll be 87. She comes to school age, there are rules to be learnt. Share, be nice, don't pinch, don't bite, don't pull hair and don't swear. Five yrs old and she's off your hands for 6 hrs a day! So why are you stood at the school gates bawling like a baby? Age 11 and it's off to big school. You panic about bullies, drugs, smoking, sex. So you praise her, help with homework, invite her mates for tea. And what happens? She turns into a teenager. What did you do wrong to get this moody adolescent? All you said was she couldn't have her nose/navel/nipple pierced. Enter the boyfriend - a close relative of Uncle Fester with a personality disorder. Never, ever tell her you don't approve. Welcome him with open arms, compliment his green hair, pierced eyelid, tattoos. They'll soon split up - because you approved. At 16, exams loom and it's all your fault. Teachers are picking on 'em, you're picking on 'em, God Almighty's picking on 'em. Once they've passed, you can be friends again. Help her with the job search. Help her get a job. She starts earning, then she's off. Moving out! And you're bawling like a baby again! She'll be back every Sunday for your slap-up roast, with a hangover, love bites and a bag of washing. Then she gets married, has babies herself. HA!HA! At the birth you tell her that life will never be the same again. How bringing up kids is joyful, wonderful and you loved every minute of it. You're lying, aren't you? Well, actually no, you're not. Motherhood can't be that bad or we wouldn't keep doing it would we?!!
