‘What the f**k have I done’ moments… and why they’re okay. 

As a parent on social network, we are often given the glorified side of parenthood. Picture this; you’re on Instagram looking through the pictures of Mums with their little ones, feeding the ducks in the sunshine, their happy faces screaming pure joy and glee. A gorgeous Valencia filter giving just the right amount of exposure to fool everyone on the internet that they’re just the most perfect family ever. 

What they aren’t telling you, is that two minutes after said picture was taken, their toddler decided to plank on the floor, or curl out a quick crap with no baby changing facilities within walking radius. Their toddler ate the bread for the ducks and still had room for some milky buttons or a freddo that mummy didn’t pack in the changing bag, along with the wet wipes for said crap in nappy. They aren’t telling you that after that gorgeous 30 seconds of the toddler doing as he was told, he turned into Satan himself and decided to unleash pure hell on earth, by starfishing in a puddle whilst screaming that he doesn’t want to be wet. They didn’t tell you that Mummy was quietly trying not to lose her mind and playing the best poker face she’s ever done whilst secretly scouring her pockets for something edible to plug the hole in her child’s face whilst she dreamt lovingly of a full night’s sleep and a glass of wine to send her on her way. 

What they aren’t telling you is that actually at that moment in time, Mummy was wondering why the fuck she ever decided to have a child, and the thought of another makes her want to tear her own uterus out and set fire to it. And do you know what? That is OKAY. 

We all have those moments. Some daily, some weekly, and some rarely. I, myself only recently had a WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING moment, when I came downstairs from breaking the Olympic world record for the quickest shower taken and discovered N covered head to toe in his own excrement, positively beaming with the painting he’d made on my coffee table with it. At that moment in time, I completely knew I was out of my depth with this whole motherhood thing. At that moment in time, I wished I could just go back to bed and wake up pre motherhood, at 12pm with a hangover and all day to sleep it off. 

Whilst I was deep cleaning my toddler’s shit out of my beige carpet I longed for the days where I could just get unbelievably sozzled without being woken up several times a night by blood curdling screams. I screamed at myself inside that I was so fucking stupid and made a mental appointment in my head to sew my vagina up for eternity to prevent this happening again. 

I’ve since made peace with the fact that my cupboards are stocked with every single cleaning product known to man, and I’ve made peace with the fact that my child likes to decorate my home with his own shit. I used to feel really guilty that I ever wished for a life without N until I realised that I don’t ever ever want to live in a world where he doesn’t exist, I just realised that it’s okay to miss and almost mourn the loss and end of my life without this mummy tag I now bear. 

If you’re ever having an absolute shitting bastard of a day, just remember it’s okay to have an absolute fuck my life moment. I won’t judge you. 

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Hello, again. 

Here I am again, actually writing a blog post for you all to pass the time (probably on the toilet) with. 

As you can see, I’ve had to change my blogging forum to WordPress as Blogger seems to have given up the ghost on me. I have access to my old posts, but unfortunately don’t know whether I can change them over to this site. But, I’m sure that’s none of your concern, so let’s get down to business, shall we? 

Since we’re starting afresh, it’s only right to introduce myself. My name is Abi, I’m 23 years old and I’m the proud owner of an almost two year old. My favourite activities include waking up to the sweet scent of a shitty nappy in my face and a cup of tea at the crack of dawn, reading the same ‘Dear Zoo’ book about eleventy hundred times before 10am, drinking Tepid Tea, watching CBeebies until I’m about ready to put my head in a very hot oven and finally, fantatsising about wine time. 

I’m a part time worker and a part time parent in the eyes of the government, when in reality, I’m just trying to find a balance between the two. Very important to add here that I love my job, and not going to work just isn’t an option for me. I would also like to add that I salute all stay at home parents currently rocking manically in the corner from a bing overload, trying to gather their thoughts whilst that whiney little shit bag bleats through their very soul. 

We live in the sleepy county of Devon with my fiancé who I’ll refer to as ‘Daddy’. Sometimes, you’ll read some quite horrifyingly nasty things about Daddy, but rest assured I don’t beat him and I haven’t fantasised about killing him in about a month, which is a new record here in the Tepid Tea Household. Rest assured I do love Daddy with my heart and soul… but sometimes, as you’ll come to read… Daddy can be a bit of a twat. 

I generally parent with rich tea biscuits, but if the tantrum is really that soul destroying, I’ll usually chuck in a bourbon or a chocolate digestive to defuse the situation. N generally eats a varied diet, but sometimes his biscuit quota is higher than others. I’ve also been known to use mini cheddars as means to get my toddler to stop talking about cars for 10 seconds. 

That’s all you need to know about me for now, but I’m sure you’ll be hearing again from me soon. I need to quickly leave this blog post here, as the twirlywoos have finished and I can hear N about to lose his shit. 

See ya!