You know that thing people do when they’ve sat an exam: “I did so bad on that!” “Me too.” “No I totally did worse, I didn’t know anything.” “Me neither, I just drew a giant cock ‘n’ balls on the paper.” Parenting can be a bit like that, one big anti-competition. If you’re up and dressed before Jeremy Kyle starts his merry dance as chav pied-piper no1, you’re actually failing. Drunk a cup of tea, hot, don’t utter a fucking word about it, nobody wants to know unless you microwaved it at least twice. The quickest and easiest way to be cut dead at a playgroup is to casually mention that your child sleeps well.
Don’t misunderstand me, I’m aware that some parents really do struggle to adjust to life with a child and that is a totally different matter, not one to take lightly. I genuinely feel for these people and hope they get the help and support they need. I do imagine the anti-competition doesn’t really help that much, I couldn’t say for certain though. As with everything I write, I can only comment on personal experience.
In my experience anti-competitive parents, in particular mothers, don’t like to hear from other who are essentially doing OK. It goes against everything we are told about child rearing, to find it manageable is not the done thing. A few months ago the following post went viral:
Now I know, I know it’s a terrible post. The tone is bitchy, annoying and bragging, she could have said these exact things in a much more friendly manner. However what was astounding was the amount of women, who couldn’t wait to pull the ideas to shreds. Not just her, everything she wrote about was utterly obliterated. It would appear the whole of the internet and their scabby dogs couldn’t wait to stick the boot in. All too bloody obviously the running theme of most posts started with “just you wait until…”
At the risk of throwing myself under the metaphorical bus, there is a lot I agree with in the post. I’m only 7 months in, so feel free to lecture me on how I know fuck all really, but I can count on less than one hand the days I’ve not showered, had to let a hot meal go cold, failed to put on make up or gone to bed with the house looking like a shit tip. Once they start moving there’s a shed load of interactive contraptions designed to trap your growing TH. Don’t be a shower and slap martyr, chuck them in the jumperoo and have a bloody wash! Toys everywhere, it takes 5 minutes to hurl all that crap in a blanket box at 7pm, with one hand, while swigging wine with the other. Some people don’t care or mind about tidying plastic shit away, doing their hair or painting their face. If it’s not a priority for you, why bother? That’s fine but why get so angry with those who do? Is it because they are not playing the anti competition game expected of them? I suspect so. Like the poster above, my own TH is happy, well fed, loved, bathed and clean, yet it seems that some people arent satisfied it’s not at the detriment of some other aspect of my life. I balance child rearing with a generally presentable home and personna, deal with it. Maybe “they” are all right though and I’ll have egg on my face in a few years, I don’t know. I do know though that many many people made out like I’d have had it much worse between day dot and now, which hasn’t happened.
Now I’m thinking at this juncture some readers might be confusing “doing well” with “finding it easy” which is not the case at all. My lifestyle has completely changed, some of my days are loooooooooong, boring and frustrating. Money is tight on maternity, days out and playgroups are expensive. Stomach bugs are disgusting (when will the highchair stop stinking of shit? I cleaned it real good). TH has boundless energy and enthusiasm, which is beautiful but exhausting. I have a special skill for bending my hair in front of him, when his hands are covered in cream cheese, which actually makes me feel murderous. If he doesn’t stop trying to eat my limited edition Urban Decay lipstick each morning, I might disown him. Teeth, TEETH?!? I can’t even write about the curveball those fuckers have thrown. I’ve cried and hidden in the bathroom a scattering of times. I’ve furiously drunk wine and I’ve comfort eaten alot of chocolate and the bastard things still keep growing. Raising a child is none stop, constantly changing and sometimes a battle, there is nothing easy about it. Despite all this, I think I’m doing a good job while maintaining a home, marriage and lifestyle which I largely enjoy. Again I’m not saying it’s perfect, my friends will vouch for the fact I can bitch for England about things pissing me off in life.
Is it OK though to say “On the whole I’m doing well thanks?” I don’t feel like it is. I feel like people aren’t goint to like I’ve said it. I feel like I’m letting someone down, somehow, by always being dressed before 10am. I feel like I’m letting down those who really really do struggle and am afraid it might stop them opening up. However I’d be letting myself down if I wasn’t honest. Its OK to admit you’re doing a good job, so go on do it! You’re version of a “good job” may be different to mine, it doesn’t mean one of is right and the other wrong. It doesn’t mean we need to compete over who had the most baltic coffee or when we last dusted the bookshelves. It just means we are doing a good job in our way.
Gobshite and Tiny 