Lesson 20: Life Is Now

'Live for the moment' they say.

They just might be on to something. 

I mean, I say it. I get it.
I just don't live my life to that tune. 

I am a forward-thinker. A planner. A wisher. 'The moment' for me, is always the moment before something else happens. As a student, I longed to finish University, secure a good job and get a mortgage with my now husband. When absorbed in the world of work, I longed to start a family. When pregnant, I longed to give birth. When I had a newborn, I longed to get back to work...

And now? Well I am pregnant again, working part-time, and living in a Project House (aka the exposed brick conflict zone) mostly looking forward to the end of pregnancy (forever), to finishing the house, and getting a full-time career back on track. 

The Project

I long to not be so bloody skint, and to have money to spend on nice things not purchased on eBay or from The Range (imagine!) With 14 weeks until due date, I simply cannot wait to start doing some proper exercise and start attacking the pregnancy weight gain. Not to mention drinking G&Ts again. 

I'm not enjoying the now.

But I think I could be. I certainly should be.

For these are the moments that will shape the long term family life story beyond all others. Carrying babies in my tummy, investing weekends to sanding woodwork and shifting rubble.  

Arguably the most important years of The Family Story. 
Yet I spend most of my life wishing I could skip straight to Chapter 5.   

So what is to be done? 

Clearly, I am not a 'wake up, count all my blessings, then post them on Facebook' kind of person. I am more of a 'wake up, get into an argument with my two-year-old, then tweet a ranty update' kind of person. 

And there are certain things you can't force yourself to enjoy. Pregnancy, however important to my Greater Life's Plan, remains pretty shit - in my humble opinion, that is. I don't think it is unreasonable to have a small sulk at having to attend all social functions fat and sober.

Preggers again. 

And newborns. Well, I don't really like them. Of course I love my children. But what a marathon of relentless and unreciprocated effort those first few months are. I'm just not a fan. I am not built that way.

But I could give my Constant Forward Planning mode a rest for a while. Before I know it, I will be back to work full time, the house will be in some sort of liveable order and my two boys will be nearing the start of their school days. Right now, I would happily wake up having skipped this bit. 

But one day, someday, I am sure I will look back at the Tough Early Years and regret not having relished the madness of the experience. These years are full of milestones. And whilst motherhood at times seems to bring out the absolute worst in me (shouty rage, boredom, lots of sighing) it also make me laugh. The house is filled with laughter every single day. I don't think I could have said that in the pre-child 'Glory Days'.

Lesson 20: 'Live for the moment' may be a complete cliché, the sort of quote that gets printed on tacky canvas prints for 'inspiration,' but it is actually quite hard to do. I am going to try. 

The Unmumsy Mum

Lesson 19: What You're Not Allowed to Wish For

Last Tuesday was 20 week scan day. Lying on the bed, smothered in tummy jelly, I once again felt the butterflies and slightly anxious knotty feeling that something might be wrong. Baby might not be healthy. They do, after all, call this the 'anomaly scan' and I'm sure all parents have a pang of desperate hope that everything remains anomaly-free. 

We have one healthy child already. Our beautiful whirlwind of madness, Hurricane Henry. All anybody would wish for would be an equally healthy sibling. Right? 

Well I did wish for that. But I also wished for something else. Something seemingly far less important but all-consuming in the run up to that scan. 

I wished for a girl.

I wanted a girl.

And when the moment of truth presented itself, it was clear to see that this wasn't to be. There wasn't any searching between baby's legs at this scan. Half the bloody screen was willy and balls at one point. 

So we have been blessed with a second son, and all is well. We are so very lucky. 

And yet I cried. 

Not at first. At first, I delighted in the healthy baby news and laughed at the obvious gender identification. Another little monkey like my Henry. 

But outside the hospital, I burst into tears and more tears came later that afternoon and later still in bed. 

I wanted a girl.

How pathetically selfish of me to be disappointed. I am so very angry at myself for reacting in that way. But that is how I felt. 

I sneer at people on TV who keep trying for more children until they get the sex they have been longing for. I will not be one of those people. As sure as anybody can ever be, I will never have another baby. 

I will never have a girl. 

And that, I believe, is where the upset came from. Growing up as one of two girls I only ever imagined having daughters. I have spent 27 years dreaming of pony club outings and ballet. Of spa trips and chats about boyfriends. Perhaps losing my wonderful Mum as a teenager heightened this longing to have a daughter of my own. Perhaps I just thought it would be special.

So you see, when I felt disappointment at the news Baby Two is to be a boy, this was not at all because I don't want another boy. If you have met my glorious Henry you would understand how very fond of the Mother-Son bond I have become.

I just felt a temporary (but at the time overwhelming) sense of sadness that I will never have a daughter.

And no, I don't think that is an unfair thing to say. 

To say I WOULD HAVE LIKED A GIRL is not to say I don't want my boy. 

My Dad would have liked a son, and as his second (and last) daughter that nugget of information has never lessened my sense of self worth. He loves me unconditionally, as I will love Bump 2. 

Lesson 19: You can't help how you feel. Perhaps we should allow ourselves to 'have a moment' rather than bottling up the unsaid. And then move on, counting our wonderful blessings.

The Unmumsy Mum

Lesson 18: I'm a Grower Not a Glower

A long time ago, in a land far far away, I bought into the Pregnancy Dream. Shiny hair, glowing skin and a neat and tidy bump displayed gloriously under attractive maternity dresses. 

Well what a load of shit.

This might be the reality for some women - though if any pregnant 'Glowers' are reading this we can never be friends, just FYI. 

The fat suit

The reality of life Up The Duff, is, in my experience, less 'bloomy' and more gloomy. 

Shiny hair? Nope.

Glowing skin? Are you shitting me? I am grey and slightly zitty, like a hungover pubescent teenager. 

Almost half way through the Preggers Journey for the second time, I have roughly 60 weeks' pregnancy 'experience' under my belt and I HAVE NEVER FUCKING GLOWED. 

Lovely growing bump? Well yes granted it is growing. In close correlation with every other part of my chubby body. My 'bump' is more a tyre of pregnant podge around my middle, spreading slowly to unsuspecting areas like my arms. And chins. 

I don't even know where to start with maternity clothes. You can buy some lovely stuff these days. Truly you can. But I reserve attractive items for special occasions (there may be one such occasion per pregnancy if you are lucky). And for every other day, there are LEGGINGS. 

So what are the perks? I can think of only one...well two actually. My boobs are MASSIVE. Not usually blessed in the boobage department this is an interesting experience. The problem is, I know this is short lived. And that post-birth and breastfeeding these bad boys will deflate to saggy sacks. Sigh.

Lesson 18: Pregnancy is a blessing. But you may not be 'blessed' with a pregnant glow. Prepare for dull skin, erratic weight spread and an overall unattractive demeanour. Just to compliment the puking and tiredness. Obvs.

The Unmumsy Mum

When Mother's Day is a Hard Day

Every year, there is a big build up to Mother's Day. TV adverts, magazine features, online competitions and general mummy mushiness. Generally, I'm not a massive fan of commercial celebratory days, but hey it's Mother's Day. A day to say Thank You, I Love You and 'what you do doesn't go unnoticed.' 

I have no doubt Sunday will be a lovely day spent with my husband and my boy, our last Mother's Day as a unit of three before Baby Two joins the fold.

But is is also a thoughtful day. And my thoughts will be with everyone for whom the Mother's Day message leaves a slightly knotty tummy, or raises a tearful moment, or prompts nostalgic but sad memories. 

Parents who have lost children. A battle you should never have to face and I am so very sorry if you have. I will be thinking of you.

Children who have lost parents. You don't have the chance to say Thank You or I Love You on any day of the year, and Sunday makes this heartbreakingly obvious. I will be thinking of you.

People who could never have children. The day serves as a reminder of what you always wanted but never got. I will be thinking of you.

People who have difficult relationships with their parents or their children. There may not be any cards or flowers and you may spend the day wishing things were so very different. I will be thinking of you.

On the happiest of days I will be sparing a thought for those who are not able to feel at their happiest. And above all, I will be thinking of my Mum, who I would have spoilt rotten were she still here.

The Unmumsy Mum

Full Time Toddler (Permanent Contract) - Job Description

How the job description would read if being a toddler were considered a profession...

We are currently looking to recruit an experienced toddler to join our team. 

Person Specification
The ideal candidate will be a professional whinger, ideally with previous experience of planning and executing public tantrums. Fluent in the art of saying No, you are likely to have a proven track record of Food Refusal and Unhealthy Snack Manipulation. You will need to possess the strongest of wills and a fiery temper. Nap-takers need not apply.

Primary Duties
- Delaying all excursions from the house by at least 30 minutes.
- Following assigned caregiver to the toilet. And watching. 
- Demanding Peppa Pig on repeat.
- Regularly collapsing in a fit of unexplained rage.
- Asking for something and then changing your mind (then changing it back again).
- Managing the sleep cycle for the whole family (5am Parent Bed Invasions may be required).

Hours: Full time (distinction between night and day not always made).
Contract: Permanent. They can't fire you.

The Unmumsy Mum