Mum's The Word
By Becky Gorman
First time mum, Becky Gorman gives you an hilarious glimpse into the reality of life as a stay-at-home mum.
Staring at the 'big fat positive' on that white plastic pee stick is the moment your whole world changes forever. Once you have taken six more tests just to make sure that you are definitely not in the 0.1% of women for whom the test gives the wrong result, you excitedly tell your entire street, dentist, postman and old lady at the bus-stop the good news - whilst keeping it from your family and friends 'til the sacred 13 weeks is up.
There is an old wives tale that pregnancy gives you shining hair and glowing skin. No, being pregnant turns you into a huffing hippo, with excess baggage round the bum and hips and makes you walk like you have an over-sized nappy on. You spend the entire nine months imagining that you will be the perfect earth-mother, intimately bonded with your cherub through breast-feeding, sling-wearing, baby-signing and co-sleeping. You give yourself deadlines by which your angel will be sleeping through the night, weaned off the breast, saying 'mama' and loading the dishwasher.
Then reality hits and your little cherub is born. For some women the next few weeks and months is all that they imagined; they spend their days staring lovingly into their baby's eyes, gliding from room to room with a feather duster in their beautifully manicured hands, while their little one sleeps blissfully for hours at a time. For others it is one long, sleepless battle with a scrap of screaming humanity and a house that has turned against you by churning out dirt just to spite you. For the majority of women it is somewhere in between. Welcome to my world.
Don't get me wrong, I do sometimes stare lovingly into my baby's eyes and I do occasionally have a clean house. But most days are spent hoping that a quick wipe of the kitchen surfaces will suffice until Ben is at school, and wondering how it is possible that I (Miss Academic UK) have ended up being a stay-at-home mum.
My head is slowly being filled with a mixture of the Tweenies, Butternut squash puree and dirty nappies. If you dare stand near me on a Sunday morning in church you'll hear me attempt to fit the words of 'Horsey, horsey, don't you stop' to 'Shine Jesus Shine'. I find myself inviting door-to-door salesman inside in a desperate bid to have some non-baby conversation and ordering double-glazing for my entire neighbourhood. I also frequent my local Shopping Centre so often that one of these days they're going to reserve a parking space for me.
Talking of shopping centres, Meadowhall is a haven for stay-at-home mums; a home from home; an escape from staring at the four walls of your living room. When I go I actually made the effort to dress like a 'normal' person, put some make-up on and wipe the crusty snot marks from my jacket. I know I have succeeded and start to feel good about myself when I notice a group of good-looking men giving me a double-take. Feeling good that is, until I notice a couple of old women also giving me the once-over. To my dismay, when I look down I notice three-quarters of my left breast pad poking out the top of my t-shirt.
In an attempt to appease the health visitor and to give my baby the earth-mother organic start to life he deserves, I spend hours each week lovingly preparing home-made meals. Now I know I'm not the world's best cook, but I can prepare a passable meal which my husband eats quite happily. But there is no one more unforgiving than my son Ben, who looks at me in disgust if I so much as put a spoon anywhere near his mouth. Thankfully there are perfectly good commercial, organic baby foods on the market, which, if I mix with one of my home-made concoctions, Ben will actually eat. Do I feel guilty - not one bit!
I know I am slowly going mad when the highlight of my day is the post dropping through my letterbox, and I decide that after Ben is at school I am going to become a children's TV presenter. I know I need to get out more when Ben's lunchtime is the most challenging time of day, and I'm tempted to chain my husband to the breakfast table in an attempt to make him pull a sickie. I know that my brain is turning to fuzz when I try to start the car with a rattle, and I open the boot to fill it with petrol.
This is my life. This is my world. Given the chance would I change it? Not for anything.
Becky Gorman is a full-time professional housewife and yummy mummy. She is married to Jon and together they have a gorgeous baby son, Ben.