I hope you all know that I love my children beyond words, and loved being a SAHD for many years. Yeah? Good. All golden.
Now I can say what I want.
I’m only human, and full-time parenting is a tough and relentless job, and there are some things which aren’t so joyful. Of course watching your children grow, develop and learn in front of you is worth more than all the wealth in the world. Watching them take their first steps, say their first words, and of course, watching a two year old say dinosaur, which always sounds a bit like ‘arsehole’ is great fun, but here’s my list of things that I don’t/didn’t like so much, found a chore or simply just hate. In no particular order…
Okay, so you bump into someone in the playground and ask how their child is getting on and they report that their 2 year old, born a week after yours, eats EVERYTHING put in front of them, sleeps through the night and has learnt some Mandarin from the sodding Lingo Show. While yours is sticking a rice cake in their ear and quacking.
Never a good day when you meet the parent who tells you their child is potty trained at the age of 18 months, making you feel inadequate, but made slightly better when their child pisses in the ball pool. Sad to see when the parent then tells their child off, of course, balanced by the humour in seeing the balls float on a sea of urine. Swings and roundabout that one.
A) It’s messy and B) it sounds like deviant sexy time. Nuff said.
Early Mornings and Late Nights
No-one functions well on little or no sleep. Thatcher said she did, but she was fairly bonkers at times and sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture. Of course, the reason we’re not sleeping is usually because there’s an illness or a baby not settling, which just makes it all worse as you feel so useless. You’d take the illness from them in a heartbeat as you don’t want to see them ill. This isn’t altruism or love. It’s because then you can get a decent night’s kip. No such thing as altruism my friends…
Awww, diddums. Did ‘oo bump ‘or head? Do you want me to wipe your botbot? Would you like an applewapple?
Fuck off. Just fuck off.
The total opposite of the above. Once heard a parent talk about how proud they are that their 3 year old complained about how she fell and hurt her vagina. Almost put me off my ‘iccle rice cakes.
I could chat to my children all day long, but sometimes, the constancy and relentlessness makes you wish for an adult conversation to break that up. Especially difficult if you’re a single parent or with a partner who just doesn’t talk to you. “I JUST LONG TO BE ABLE TO TALK TO AN ADULT” a friend once said to me. Made harder if you can’t get out to do other things, or go out with your partner regularly because you don’t have babysitting options.
I know a lot of people find these stressful. Lots of children in the same space, turning your house upside down and generally causing chaos in your home, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean the promise of one that never materialises. We sent a neighbour a congratulations card when they had their third child just after T was born. Their Thank You card said ‘You must come round for a play date soon!’ but, three years on, the invite has never materialised.
Raincovers For Pushchairs
So it’s raining but you need to go out. Put the raincover over the buggy or stroller and what happens? Your child kicks and kicks and kicks at it, so much that the bloody thing rips itself to uselessness. Or they pull at it so much they end up covering themselves with rain, and then complain about it. If I was being pushed around in a cosy pushchair covered in a clear plastic bubble I’d be beside myself with joy! I’d love it. Plus they take ages to put on, all those straps and velcro without all the promise of sexytime at the end of it, and invariably you have to take them off when you go indoors which means someone somewhere is going to end up a sodden mess, if you’re not one already.
Fuck me. Crafting. Nowadays people recycle cardboard, newspaper, plastic bottles, and when you decide to craft something you NEED all this shizzle, so you have to collect them all in advance, find a place to store them and then, when it comes to making something with all the craft stuff you’ve spent a fortune on, someway, somehow, you will go to the loo later in the day and find glitter on your cock.
So that’s a few of the things I hate. As Julie Andrews might sing ‘These are a few of my least favourite things.’ This has been a cathartic experience, as I’m not a perfect parent, have never pretended to be and I don’t have perfect children, whatever they are. I love them, utterly but, you know, sometimes?
Let me know what you dislike or find hard about being a parent. Share with the group, and perhaps make me feel a little less bad about this post.
Thanks for reading.