Tag: Mum
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Being Ugly Is The Source Of All My Problems
Being / feeling ugly seems to be the source of all my problems
It’s easier said than done to say “just don’t let it bother you”. That seems to be the top piece of advice on the “I’m ugly” topic, and it’s demeaning and hardly motivational. Because it does bother me, all the time. And I can’t just switch that off.
I’m losing confidence, because I think I’m ugly, I don’t know why my husband is with me, he deserves someone better someone beautiful. And the thing is, it doesn’t matter what the ‘truth’ is. Because I know what my truth is and it’s my truth that’s holding me back. I think I’m ugly and you can tell me I’m beautiful but I won’t believe it.
This is how I truly felt 8 years ago I had no confidence in myself, I did not see my self as others saw me, but when my daughter was 9 she began to tell me how ugly and fat she felt, I could see myself so much in her, my constant putting myself down was rubbing off on her, she would look at her self in the mirror and say how fat she was. What on earth was she saying she is absolutely beautiful inside and out.
When I stood back and saw how I was affecting her I looked at myself and saw me for the first time, yes i had stretch marks these were a gift from my daughter, yes I have bags under my eyes these are from sleepless nights from either my little boy waking in the night, or from the man I love snoring next to me.
I saw the likes on my pictures on Facebook. I saw the love that I had around me a realised I am not ugly, I am not fat, I am me, I am unique, I am my own worst enemy.
If you feel you are ugly, fat, unattractive, stop!!! You are perfect, you are loved, there is no one else like you and you don’t know who may be watching you and think that it is normal or acceptable to hate yourself
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Rude Joke Of The Day
A mother was working in the kitchen, listening to her five-year-old son playing with his new electric train set in the living room.
She heard the train stop and her son saying, ‘All of You b*****ds who want off, get off now, ‘cos we’re in a hurry! And all of you b*****ds who are getting on, get on now, ‘cos we’re going down the tracks’.
The horrified mother went in and told her son, ‘We don’t use that kind of language in this house. Now I want you to go to your room and stay there for
TWO HOURS.
When you come out, you may play with your train, but I want you to use nice language.’
Two hours later, the son came out of the bedroom and resumed playing with his train. Soon the train stopped and the mother heard her son say,
‘All passengers who are disembarking the train, please remember to take all of your belongings with you.
We thank you for travelling with us today and hope your trip was a pleasant one.’
She hears the little boy continue,
‘For those of you just boarding, we ask you to stow all of your hand luggage under your seat. Remember, there is no smoking on the train.
We hope you will have a pleasant and relaxing journey with us today.’
As the mother began to smile, the child added……….
‘For those of you who are pissed off about the TWO HOUR delay, please see the fat controller in the kitchen.
Credit Alan peacock
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Dear Friend, I’m Sorry For Being So Bloody Rubbish
Dear Friend,
I am sorry for being so bloody rubbish.
But you see, life moves really – REALLY – fast.
From the minute I open my eyes there are 2 small people, several big people and even some animals who are relying on me for many different reasons. Some of them involve eating and basic survival.
I am spinning plates and dropping plenty. You, my dear friend are one of those plates.
But I love you very much.
I wish that every text message I wrote to you in my head made it into the virtual space and into your phone to let you know you’re in my heart and on my mind.
I wish I could carry through with all the plans we make, knowing we never will. I go there in my mind – it’s loads of fun.
When I drop, frazzled, into bed at night, I remember I haven’t rung you, again.
Then I remember I haven’t locked the back door or brought the cat in and just like that, it’s happened again and I have forgotten, again.
I am very hopeful that one day life will be easier and we will be blessed with plenty of time for laughing, drinking and sharing.
Stick with me,
I promise I will be worth it – when we are old and grey and you need someone to laugh with in the nursing home.
I’m there.
Yours Loyally,
Your bloody rubbish friend
xxx
Source – Donna Ashworth
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Its A Bad Day Not A Bad Life
Not every day is easy
Not every day is a “good day”
Today is one of them days
The feelings of helplessness because you can’t settle your baby
They soon turn into feelings of guilt and doubt
“Why can’t I settle her, what am I doing so wrong”
Then the toddler starts being mischievous and a general toddler “why can’t he just behave, why does he have to touch everything I tell him not to”
Again, feelings of guilt – these children deserve better than what you’re providing
The added stress social media causes because I have the overwhelming need to ‘prove’ to a bunch of strangers, friends and everything in between that I’m coping and that I have this whole parenting thing under control
Assuming those closest to you are judging you when you’re honest about not coping, or assuming they can see through your mask of lies
Asking my mum to take the kids so I can attend to my personal hygiene and housework – again cue the overwhelming guilt that I’m not spending enough time with my own children
My husband returns from work, only for me to thrust the children on to him so I can start tea, in my head trying to justify it as acceptable because I’m cooking everyone their tea and feeding them like the good wife and mother
But this guilt returns “he’s had a hard day at work, providing for his family. Give the man a break”
In hindsight, I can recognise that I’m my own biggest critic and it is my presumptions that cause the guilt and not in fact anybody’s opinion. I also recognise that I overlook the good moments on a bad day and don’t give myself the credit that overall, I’ve managed and today is just one day
It’s a bad day, not a bad life.
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Mum Flu It Is No Joke Give Us A Medal
The definition of Mum Flu, get out of bed and get on with things. Reach for every available remedy, drink as many Lempsip Max’s or Benylin medicine that are allowed before driving would become impaired. No matter how much we want to be looked after, receive sympathy for our aches and pains or to curl up in bed, hide under the duvet and not appear until all ailments have gone it just is not possible.
There was nothing better as a child when, if poorly mum (and dad) would flood you with lots of TLC. Being tucked up in bed, toast brought to your bedside a bottle of Lucosade (which I thought was medicine for many years). Then as we progress into adult hood and are working, even a day off sick from work would mean the duvet on the sofa watching endless day time tv with a box of tissues and cups of tea on tap.
Becoming a mum and being ill just do not go. I certainly know from experience in this house, life would come to a complete stand still if I was to take to my bed. Waking on a Monday morning feeling like I have been kicked in the chest by a horse, throat feeling like it has a thousand pins stuck in it and an ear that is throbbing so bad I could cry it just fills me with dread. Not because I am ill, I can cope with being ill it is everything else that I have to do whilst feeling like this. Nothing in my day-to-day life is able to suffer. Nothing can be put off for another day and the children will need fed.
I am an organised person and so all school clothes are put out the night before, school bags at the front door at the ready but still this morning the children received my frustrations. My head is telling me it is just like any other day but my body is screaming….what are you doing woman get back to bed. After school and nursery drop off, which signs of my current Ora was showing as a fellow mum asked if I was alright,(other words for you do look absolutely awful) it was time to get back home and start work. Monday is Payroll day and is my busiest day of the week. I am responsible for making sure no mistakes are made as this is my employees livelihood, they have mortgages and bills to pay. My brain is functioning but certainly not on all cylinders. The process is slower than usual and I check and check again that all is correct. Working from home is full of advantages but on days like these is so wish I had someone to do my work for me.
I long for the end of the day, I wish away the hours but I know I still have a few phone calls to make, school pick up, youngest swimming lessons, middle childs drama and oldests hockey training. (once again I praise the Slow Cooker for its ability to make that part of the day easier). My partner phones a few times throughout the day only to ask have I been to the chemist to get more medicine. There was a little hint of sympathy in his voice but he is in London and I am sure there is slight relief, one he is far enough away from the germs but also he does not need to be stand in mum until I feel better.
Mum flu is worse than Man flu us woman are super heroes and deserve medals
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Mums Committing Suicide I Finally Get It
I get it. I finally get it. You see mums committing suicide. And I couldn’t understand it. How do you leave your kids behind like that?
Postpartum depression is what they call it. You don’t feel like the world would be better off without you, you feel like you’d be better off without this world.
And then everybody posts, “oh, I never knew. She didn’t say anything. She seemed okay.” ……. She told you. And it seemed small to you, you didn’t get it.
Behind on life, can’t get anything done. Everything is expected of her and she’s drowning. She lost herself taking care of others. She’s told you, “I can’t today. I have too much to do”
Don’t offer to help with her kids because then the guilt sets in. She won’t let you take them because she feels like she’s already not spending enough time with them. I see it. I see you. I understand you. Y’all wanna check on somebody? Stop by and visit, let her take a shower, help her in some way so she feels like she’s not so behind. Like she’s not alone. Like she’s HUMAN. There’s your signs. Stop saying you didn’t know. Because she told you.
Photographer: Taylor LaKae Rawlings
Speak to your GP or health visitor as soon as possible if you think you might have postnatal depression.
With appropriate treatment and support, most women make a full recovery, although it can take time.
Looking after a baby can be stressful and challenging for anyone, and it can be even tougher if you’re dealing with postnatal depression as well.
There are a number of things you can try yourself to improve your symptoms and help you cope. These include:
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talk to your partner, friends and family – try to help them understand how you’re feeling and what they can do to support you
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don’t try to be a “supermum” – accept help from others when it’s offered and ask your loved ones if they can help look after the baby and do tasks such as housework, cooking and shopping
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make time for yourself – try to do activities that you find relaxing and enjoyable, such as going for a walk, listening to music, reading a book or having a warm bath
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rest when you can – although it can be difficult when you’re looking after a baby, try to sleep whenever you get the chance, follow good sleeping habits and ask your partner to help with the night-time work
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exercise regularly – this has been shown to help boost mood in people with mild depression (read more about exercise for depression)
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eat regular, healthy meals and don’t go for long periods without eating
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don’t drink alcohol or take drugs , as this can make you feel worse
Ask your health visitor about support services in your area. They may be able to put you in touch with a social worker, counsellor or local support group. It can be reassuring to meet other women who are going through something similar.
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No job, no title, no importance, no status. ‘Just a mum’
Mothering is a long hard game.
It is more than ok to take a break sometimes.
When I had my first child I quickly realised that people treated stay at home mums differently than a working mama.
No job, no title, no importance, no status. ‘Just a mum’.
Long wonderful days of coffee and cake, and friends and cuddles.
Nevermind the non-stop changes of clothes, the not eating, the constant thirst, the crying and crying and crying and that’s just you, oh and the utter loneliness, isolation and the feelings of being judged.
Just enjoying the quiet empty days of mothering being both grateful that you are able to be with your baby and watching her grow and sad and confused wondering why it didn’t mention this bit in the books, why did I feel so bored and lonely when I had this amazing little baby.
I felt like If I did have a rare meet up with a friend all I ever spoke about is my child, I mean what else did I have, becoming a mum I lost my identity.
But I made changes, I joined a darts team and play for 2 hours once a week, and sold bows that I made in my spare time its only something small but it breaks up my week and gives me a sense of worth, Set up a little something for yourself, just a little sideline to keep you busy,, to help you stop your brain from spiralling out of control, to stretch your brain, to help you rediscover yourself, to shut up anyone asking what you do all day. But more importantly for you.
I am not saying go out and get a full time job unless that is what your family needs you to do, im saying find something just fo you, something that gets you thinking, or at least talking to other adults that isn’t your partner.
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I’m A Mum Who Doesn’t Like Children
Anyone else a Mum that does not really like kids? Everyone falls over in shock when I say this, so let me clarify.
I love my three kids dearly, and a handful of my friend’s kids, but as a general rule, no, I do not really like children.
Having extra kids over my house stresses me out. They are super needy, messy and get on my nerves the entire time, it seems to me that other people’s children seem to be louder, ruder and far more annoying than my own flesh and blood.
I prefer the company of adults. I love mine and I enjoy watching them grow up, but I can also tell them when they are being little assholes and to knock it off. I can’t tell your kids that, also my kids know my look, you know the special mum look that says pack it in or you’re in trouble.
I do not have sympathy for the mother whose child is having a tantrum in the shop, I tend to tut and move away, I do not judge the mothers parenting but my god are the screams of your damn child annoying, please take it home.
When I dine out I pick a table as far away from children as possible and will happily move tables if a young family sits near by.
It’s not that I hate children, I just don’t want to look after others kids or spend any time with them, I do not coo over babies and don’t find it cute or funny when a child pulls a face at me.
Surely I cannot be the only mum who only likes their own children, I love my trio and enjoy watching them grow, but keep your kids away from me, thanks very much
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It’s Perfectly Ok For Your Baby To Feed More Often
I really wish that all new mothers were told that the majority of newborns want to breastfeed much more frequently than every few hours. And many even want to stay latched on, suckling for extended periods of time. This can understandably shake a new mother’s confidence and make her second guess if she’s producing enough milk to keep her nursling satisfied. Women are usually just told that their baby should nurse ‘every 2-3 hours’, but frequent (and lengthy) nursing is a totally normal thing for newborns to do! It helps keep them close to mama while regulating her milk supply.
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Often babies won’t have these longer stretches between feeds until they’re a little older. Even then, there are several things that could make them want to nurse more, including (but not limited to) teething, sickness, unfamiliar surroundings, or feeling tired. I can’t imagine how miserable it would be to have a fussy baby in your arms but feel like you shouldn’t breastfeed again because it’s “not time yet”.
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This isn’t discussed often enough and new mothers need to be reassured. If baby is gaining weight, then there’s absolutely nothing wrong with breastfeeding more often than what you’ve been told is ‘normal’. The postpartum period is all about surrendering, so cozy up with your babe and forget the clock.
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Photo x @ameliahannah”
credit: Oh Baby Nutrition