MY WONDERFUL MUM FAILS

I know. I know. You think “what can be so wonderful about mum fails?” I mean they are as it sounds: FAILS and they are supposed to teach us how to do right next time; they are supposed to show us the way and make us feel so guilty about the wrong we have just done to our child.

After two and a half years of parenting I realised I am not that mum. Not even close to that guilt trip “I will be better next time”/ “I will thrive at parenting from now on”

Please, my child got no recollection from the early stages of her life so she can haunt me and blame later on. And is she will, well, I will have to deal with it when the time comes. Until then, I will actually enjoy my mum fails. I will take pictures and videos of my child embarrassing moments, I will #mumfail all those insane times when I laughed out loud at the stupid things I have done.

It is funny and how else will I build memories and have proof to show my daughter if not like this? Do you think she will want to see pictures of herself wearing a cute Christmas outfit or she’ll actually want proof of that story when she got stuck in the imagination box? (do I have to mention I was filming and taking pictures, laughing like crazy while she was stuck there? ) or when she ate spaghetti for the first time and she was all covered in the bolognese sauce – including her eyebrows, eyelashes, ears, hair – anywhere you can imagine basically.

I had my fair share of mum fails and I learned that without them we cannot thrive, we cannot become who we are and most definitely our children won’t grow up happily without them.

Being a first time mum and not having help around at all made me fail so many times it’s hilarious. Right before going into labor I was watching youtube videos about how to dress a newborn and how to bathe a newborn. It sounds stupid but it’s reality. I wanted at least two things to know before my daughter was to meet her clumsy mum.

Once she was here I learned on the go. I slept with her in my arms and almost dropped her without realising (I know what you think but she was always feeding and trust me, her dad couldn’t do this job) ;

I was so desperate to have some me time that I would do anything possible to make her sleep while we were out so I can sip on a coffee and read a book (because I was tired, because I lived on coffee, because I wanted to be that perfect mum with a perfect figure and a perfect baby – BTW – it’s fake; they don’t exist)

I left her in her bed, unsupervised while I hoovered the house and done the dishes (in my defence she was small and also, she couldn’t even crawl or roll over from one side to another); I keep the TV on at all times so I can’t say just exactly how much screen time my daughter has on daily bases (she is so used to it by now that she doesn’t even pay attention to the bloody thing)

Shall I go on? Do you need more examples?

I’ll give you another one. I am rubbish at cooking so my daughter eats basic foods and I can’t get myself to bake a muffin because I am so scared of failing at this as well. So yes, she will have a Sainsbury’s scone from the bakery section, she will eat a muffin from Starbucks although it’s full of sugar; she has those Fruit Shoot juices from time to time because she doesn’t drink enough water so I think they are better than nothing, and yes, although she is only two and a half, we go McDonalds on Thursdays and she’ll enjoy a portion of chips with ketchup (she won’t eat anything else from there anyways); did I mention that after the chips we will go Creams and she will eat a scoop of Ice cream so she can get enough energy to run around the soft play and give me ten minutes of peace? Yes, she does all these and more. And I am guilty of all these and more.

I leave her to take a nap and although I hear her yapping away in there, singing to her toys or telling them a bedtime story, I won’t go pick her up for at least an hour. I consider it her quiet time and my sanity time as well – I couldn’t write this post otherwise, I couldn’t enjoy a second cup of coffee or watch my beloved Greys Anatomy, I couldn’t read a book or reminiscence my wonderful mum fails.

There are so many but you know what? I am damn proud of them because they make me smile, they make me realise I am a good parent who is allowed to fail miserably from time to time. I am that parent who will let her child scream and roll over while laughing and assuring her she won’t get anything by behaving like this (you know something – this actually worked. she had two tantrums like this and she stopped. i laughed at her and she got nothing out of it so she decided to change the drama).