I Am Not An Expert Mum.

I am not an Expert Mum

On a trip to the nurse this week (jabs, ugh), the nurse said “Oh I do like it when the expert mums come in, it makes my job so much easier”. I was very quick to correct her that I am far from an expert and would, at best, describe myself as a practising novice. It got me thinking, is that what people see me as? Do people think that because I have created 4 (super amazing) children, that these 4 children are fed and clean (most of the time) and that they say their pleases and thank you’s, that I might have a clue as to what the hell this parenting malarkey is about?! I’m afraid I’m going to have to burst their bubble.

I am not an expert Mum by any stretch of the imagination, and people that do think they are experts at parenting kinda piss me off. To me, parenting is a combination of trial/error and common sense. People think that just because I’ve been there already (in some cases 4 times over), that I’m some sort of aficionado on child rearing. The honest truth is that while I have learnt from mistakes with one child, I have made different ones with the other. Sometimes I make the same mistake time and time again because I have simply forgotten how I did things with the last! Bloody baby brain.

I’m not a fan of giving advice either. It may be that I don’t have much confidence in myself, but I don’t always think that MY way is the BEST way. If asked “what would you do”, I would just relay what I did with each child and see if any of those appealed.

And I’m always trying to learn. Has anyone else noticed that “official advice” changes around every 3 years?! Use cot bumpers, don’t use cot bumpers, wrap them up, don’t wrap them up, wash them with this, no wash them with that. Its always changing!!! Plus, my kids are always growing, always changing and more often than not growing in different ways. Not all children will potty train/wean/walk at the same time as their little brother/sister so don’t assume that what you did last time is going to work this time (case in point being my 3 1/2 year old that still won’t sleep through the night while my 3 month old will). I always have a parenting book on the go, and I always re-read books too. I got “The Baby Whisperer” the other week from the library, only to skim through it as a refresher on what to do with Twiglet to get her into a bit more of a routine. I also got a book about tween behaviour, because knowledge is power!(as is control of the kindle charger).

In summary, no matter how many kids I have, no matter how many different situations I have been in, I am not an expert parent, and I doubt I will ever be.


Don’t Worry – I’ve Got Your Back

Why is it that kids never grow out of putting you in awkward positions? And no, not in a “yoga” kind of way. But in a squeaky bum, this is so embarrassing, ground please swallow me up, kind of way.

When Little Miss was small, we were waiting in the queue at the shops when she said “ugh Mum, that man is so fat!” and pointed to the person in front of us. Mortified, I quickly rectified her behaviour with “it’s not nice to say that word about anyone, and that’s a woman, not a man”.

When Tiny Miss was asked to bring in a plastic bottle for a nursery project, she told the teacher “we only have green glass ones for Mummy’s wine”. FFS.

Add this to the millions of tantrums, refusing to go out in anything other than their pants and the general puke/poo/wee stained clothes that one or all of us end up wearing, and it’s pretty obvious that parenting is simply surviving one embarrassing moment after another.

But the embarrassment is just the start. It’s when they pull you out of your own comfort zone that you really have to take your own insecurities and push them to one side. Those times when you have to go trick or treating (knocking on peoples doors and asking them to feed your children? Weird). Those times when you have to turn up to toddler group and know NO ONE. Those times where you have to take your child swimming dressed in hardly anything with the WORLDS BIGGEST BODY HANGUPS!

Today is one of those days. One of those “please don’t make me, please don’t make me, please don’t make me” days where you know your child has to come first and your personal insecurities second. JJ has been moved in class and doesn’t like who he is sitting next to. Like, really doesn’t like them. He comes home crying because they call him this, or they ruin his work, or they distract him so he gets things wrong. So now I have to speak to the teacher to ask for him to be moved (he has already asked himself and she said no). I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to see his teacher. And I definitely don’t want to walk past the “other Mums” in case they think I’m complaining about their kids.

Unfortunately, I’ve got no choice. Because I am Mum. And no matter what, I always have to have their backs.

Wish me luck!!!!


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