When I wrote my ‘çomeback’ post last month, I had visions of skidding back into the blogging world, takkies (sneakers) squeaking, armed with daily pearls of sarcastic wisdom to share with all of you. As it turns out, this hasn’t happened.
I’ve realised that like many other important things in my new life – painting my nails, getting my hair cut, uploading photos to facebook – blogging isn’t something that’s just going to happen. It’s going to require scheduling with the precision of an Olympic gymnast somersaulting across on a 4 inch wide beam. Because when moms have a free evening or weekend, the very fact that we have a baby means it’s not free at all. It is simply wide open space to *insert admin/chore that has been backlogged for months*
In my house you can tell when it’s date night, because it’s the only time I have polish on my nails and freshly applied eyeliner, as opposed to masacara rings from the day before. And this from perfectly painted nails every single day of the week…le sigh.
Anyway, although I haven’t been writing much, I’ve been thinking about writing; more specifically, what I want to write about. I will always get back to healthy recipes – that’s my staple and my reason for starting this blog. But I also want to tell my story.
Since having kid (never with an s), I’ve come to see how few people tell the real story of what it’s like. There’s this stigma attached to parenthood, this unwritten code that says you have to say it’s the best thing you’ve ever done. If you express regret, people react like you just told them you’re infected with a contagious killer virus. For the record, I don’t regret having my Bug. Today she is one of the most delightful things in my life and I understand why people make such a fuss about procreating. But it wasn’t always that way. Mark and I experienced genuine, depressing regret in the early days, and for a while there we honestly thought we’d made a mistake. It’s a terrible experience to hold your newborn in your arms and feel like that.
It’s these unexpected misgivings, along with the total inadequacy that every new parent feels, that causes otherwise healthy relationships to teeter on the brink of destruction. Not only that, but as a new mother you’re trying to find your identity again. You have to balance work with being a mom and the almost permanent guilt that entails. You desperately want your body back, but it’s weak from the stress of pregnancy and birth and reaching your pre-baby weight seems as likely as Oasis getting back together. While you’re dealing with your physical insecurities, you’re thrust into conversations where it’s all anyone wants to talk about, because post pregnancy weight loss in our society unfortunately defines whether or not you’ve been ‘successful’ at this mom thing.
In short, it’s a minefield out there. Over the next couple of weeks I’ll tell you more about what it’s been like for me. They say the truth shall set you free…I’m not sure about that, but I hope it makes you chuckle.