On the other side of the murky, dark, muddled newborn days is babyhood. It’s a slow step out into the sunshine, where sleeping patterns are formed, neck muscles are built, and a new rhythm to life is discovered. At about three months in, you’ll start to feel like maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive this.
Babies are the best. People don’t celebrate them enough. They’re the perfect humans. They’re chill, they’re happy, they can’t talk, they can’t walk, and they think you’re spectacular #givemeallthebabies.
But parents with babies can be insufferably self-satisfied. They start mummy blogs, they hand out advice to parents with older kids, they roll their eyes at people who say raising kids is hard. They refer to themselves as ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’, and their little muffin smiles all day long, naps for two hours at a time and is happy with a paper plate and a song.
They’re completely oblivious to how obnoxious their status updates about the angel baby are—#blessed #grateful #lovebeinghermum #borntobeamother—or that photo album with 82 shots of their first day at the beach in which they’ve tagged everyone they’ve ever known because surely they’d all want to see?
Ah, babies—so perfect!
Until they’re not.
Karma gets these people eventually. It comes out of the blue, sending smug mummies (smugmies? smugummies? smumgs?) hurtling towards the internet with a wine bottle as they try to figure out what leap their snowflake is going through right now.
Welcome to motherhood, where one day you’re Martha bloody Stewart and the next you’re Roseanne Barr. It’s not your fault: trust me. It’s your child. They’re all jerks now and then.
But don’t worry, babies are mostly beautiful, agreeable, social little monkeys that you’ll want to show off to the world. It’s time to step out into civilisation, reconnect with other humans and find your groove as a MUM.
The problem is, once you start looking out to the world, you’ll inevitably start to compare. You’ll see women on social media who go to the gym every day, dress their babies in bespoke linen rompers and set up sensory activities before they go to bed so they’re ready to go in the morning. They write wildly successful blogs during nap time and have created their own line of empowering T-shirts. They also seem to have professional photographers following them around, taking #candid snaps of them looking #blessed in their impeccably styled, Scandi-neutral playrooms #beige.
Their baby bags are organisational masterpieces with tiny satchels and compartments for every item they could ever need. When are they doing all this organising? Your baby bag is half supply closet–half garbage dump. It contains: one crumpled nappy, three bottles of water, four half-empty packets of baby wipes, a box of sultanas, seventeen used tissues, a dozen receipts and a pooey nappy from that time you changed your kid on the floor of a shopping centre change room because there wasn’t a change table and then you shoved the dirty nappy back in your bag to avoid putting it in the shop’s bin because that’s rude, but now you’re walking around with human faeces inside your bag. There’s also, inexplicably, a peg.
Everyone else’s kids seem to be sleeping through the night, they’re identifying colours, they’re taking first steps at eight months old. Your kid … isn’t. All these mums are starting businesses, doing motivational speaking tours and seem surrounded by hoards of equally stylish mum friends. You … aren’t.
It’s okay, it’s going to take some time and a bit of effort but you and your garbage dump bag will find your feet—and your mum tribe—and you will survive this.
Love Lauren xx