To my beautiful girls,
If you have found this, you must be making your way through the rest of the blog and if that’s the case, there are a few things I would like you to know. (I’m not actually sure how I feel about you reading it, though I have always known that posting anything online would put it permanently ‘out there’ – the internet is crazy and scary and wonderful all at the same time).
First things first, I hope you are reading this as teenagers hopefully around 18, because you will notice I occasionally use words I always warn you both never to use at home. I have always felt that writing down the words in my head, exactly as I think them, adds a certain authenticity to my writing. It’s just unfortunate that sometimes the first word in my head is ‘asshole’ Or ‘oh ya fucker.’ These are still not appropriate words to call each other at home. You are never too old for that naughty step!
When I was your age I wrote diaries. With a pen and paper using glitter pens and coloured pencils. I know that makes me sound ancient. I guess I am ancient compared to you two. I grew up in the 1990s with the Spice Girls, and tamagotchis, and hair mascara, and taping the Top 40 off the radio (remind me to show you what tapes are). I’m not going to tell you what was in those diaries as post-millennium they mainly detailed boys I liked and other cringeworthy stuff like that. Anyway, The point is that this blog has became my modern-day diary and rather than writing it in scented gel pens on carefully selected notepads from Woolworths (yes that was a store), which I hid under my bed from nana, I started writing them online. For all to see. For all to share. For all to judge.
In May 2018, the month I am writing this (Zoe you are 13, Hana you are 9 years old, and combined you are a bluddy handful at times but I wouldn’t change you for the world!). My instagram and blog page is getting pretty popular lots of people have been enjoying my ranting and raving and actually listening to mummy can you believe it!!
So I want to set a few things straight. Right here, right now. Not because I have to. But because I’d like you to understand why I wrote so candidly. On the darkest of sleep-deprived days when I was struggling with my mental health, or when mummy was getting Chemotherapy and I was irritable and the house was a bloody war-zone ( I’m sure you remember these times) I wanted to read about somebody who felt the same. Somebody who would reassure me that I wasn’t going completely mad. Somebody not afraid to admit that it can at times all just be a little bit shit. That was the blog I needed. So, I searched for it, but found nothing that was quite right.
I’ll write one!! and with the support of an amazing few new girl friends I met the blog was born. I made a vow to myself very early on that I would document parenthood as I found it. Not how I wanted to find it. Or how I wanted other people to think that I found it. But how it was.
Type, upload, share.
It was therapeutic.
It was at this point that it became clear to me that ‘putting it out there’ (the blog I mean, don’t cringe) was actually less risky than not doing so. I’m not saying I’m Florence bloody Nightingale for parents but hey some parents have found comfort in my honest words and I have found comfort in their blogs too.
So yes, I did call you assholes when you were toddlers. And possibly a dick once or twice (sorry). And yes I did sometimes cry and reflect longingly on days spent without you by my side as you already know both myself and your father split up a long time ago and when you were with him that’s what I found the hardest. And yes I did wonder why it wasn’t all rainbows and cupcakes. Why I was bored with going to the local park and never really went to baby groups with you both. Why I couldn’t cherish every second.
But there were so many other moments we shared. As a family of three. The fantastic fun we had on family trips, the cuddles we shared as I read you stories, the fact the two of you and your giggles and smiles, seeing you so happy every single day. Always just walking by or popping your head into the room saying “mummy, love you” made my heart melt every time.
Because the truth was, there were a thousand and one other parenting blogs describing the blessings of motherhood. There were blogs where everybody wore a matching Christmas jumpers (we did try one year but Zoe was too cool for that) and nobody shat through their sleepsuit ( hana yes this was mostly you) and everybody smiled all the fucking time. I know this because I read them. And there should be space for all types of blog to co-exist (who doesn’t love a Christmas jumper?) but in my darkest hours of motherhood the ones I stumbled across didn’t add much value to my life. I needed someone who felt like me, who felt like shit like they weren’t doing a good job to know as much I love you I actually disliked you sometimes too, usually when you both would fight non stop (I really hope this has stopped by now).
The good bits … well, you know those bits for yourselves. Those are our memories. I don’t always post them on Facebook and Instagram (#motherofgirls) but you two really are my world. You really are!! I don’t always feel like I am cut out for motherhood but I’ve always been certain that nobody could love you more than I do. I really hope you have grown up knowing that too.
We have definitely been through some tough times over the years between mental health, cancer and chemotherapy and having to move house a lot. But it’s always just been us three, (and lady) Our three little peas in a pod forever and always. We got through them and we always will get through them as a team (our team) you give me the strength to keep going every single day and to never give up.
I love you more than life itself!!
Zoe please put your dirty clothes in the washing basket and Hana please put down your laptop and do your homework.
Love you to the moon and back always,