We’re all unique and so every mother experiences motherhood differently. We asked a collection of mums what they thought motherhood would look/feel like and what has it actually turned out to be like…
HIT105’s Those Two Girls
“I thought motherhood would make me a glorious hybrid of Mother Teresa and Justine Clarke from Playschool. But motherhood also amplified my not-so-saintly character traits – impatience, distraction, banshee-screaming, un-fluffy pancake making.
I thought motherhood would afford me time to create photo albums and scrapbooks and ‘I LOVE YOU’ messages etched into bananas. But motherhood means that my iPhone camera roll is as full as Osher’s hair and not one proper photograph has ne’er been printed.
I thought motherhood would mean tender, relaxing cuddles on the couch for hours on end. But being the mother of two boys with enough testosterone to rival the Hemsworth clan means that hugs and kisses are often decimated by a shower of Nerf bullets to the back of the skull.
I thought motherhood would mean dinners at the table nightly, no McDonalds until they were both in their twenties, and two French-English bilingual children (the way it was for me when I was growing up). But motherhood has seen me trespass through the golden arches on more occasions I care to admit, with neither boy busting out a ‘Bonjour’ (yet) and too many green peas stuck down the side of the sofa to mention.
But it’s glorious, rewarding, infuriatingly beautiful. Being a mother of boys defines me, enthralls me and lights up my heart like nothing else can. The flatulence humour, the doodle fixation, the noise, oh the noise! I’ll take it all and revel in it for as long as I can.
HIT105’s Those Two Girls
“The number of cheese sticks, hair ties, dried-out felt pens, and Mt Fuji-sized laundry piles in my home have been a surprising motherhood outcome. Also, how often my girls (aged seven and four) need food. I mean, I know they have to eat but their faces are in the fridge and pantry at least 72 times per day. Whenever I hear “I’m hu—“ it triggers an automatic reflex to break straight into the ol’ classic “EAT A PIECE OF FRUIT” mode. I’ve learned to embrace hearing my own mother’s lines regularly launch out of my mouth with the passion and fervour of a priest rattling off Bible phrases. I’m also consistently bemused at the apparent difficulty of putting on socks as the kids’ final line of defence against leaving the house. Watching ABC KIDS means I do have a slight crush on Andy and both his prehistoric adventures and baby animals. I developed a hatred of bark parks after shoving my fingers into their tiny mouths too many times when they’d try and swallow wood chips as toddlers (refer to my point about insatiable hunger)…and also sandy parks because my car backseat could grow dunes when the girls’ emptied their shoes. In fact, I can confidently say I DO NOT LIKE PARKS.
Despite the above, I do like and love being a mother. When they sneak into my bed and their sleeping bods smooth against me like remoras on a shark. When we swap declarations of love: I tell them my love is the size of the galaxy, and my four year old tells me hers is the size of our lounge room (it’s all relative, I suppose.) When we all laugh together during a movie. When they crack jokes. When they throw their cheese-stick wrappers in the bin. Amazing.
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