Bad Mum

Magazine

14 January 2019

5 Things I Wish I'd Known...

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To label or not to label…

I have heard this ‘debate’ so many times, however, most often, it is those who do not have a child with Special Educational Needs or Disability (SEND) that have the strongest opinions regarding labelling a child. Not always, but often.

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10 January 2019

To the lonely mum or dad...

To the lonely mum or dad...

My early days of newborn glee I remember hazily. I was fueled by my overpowering love and utter disbelief that I in fact had created a tiny human with ten little fingers and ten little toes (I think I spent the first few weeks just gaping at Arthur and saying, "He's actually real. This really did happen.
This eventually dissipated and whilst the love still grew, the reality of cluster feeding, engorged tits, brutal loneliness and sleepless nights took it toll quite heavily.

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Comment or not to comment…?

Unless you’ve been underneath an Instagram rock lately you would have seen the ever-growing group of females, mostly all Mum’s, taking over your feed and flooding you with their Kick-Ass vlogs, blogs and books. And, it certainly is impressive.

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2 January 2019

I grew up collecting Care Bears, not likes on social media!

It’s has been 20 days since I wrote my last post about my deep dive into my headspace and emotional goals. People have been super responsive, and I’ve had some fascinating conversations (thanks!), though I think I may have also weirded some people out like I just flashed my boobs on the internet or something. Baps out or not, (and my god, they used to be out a lot; I refer here to the time I was nearly arrested in Mexico for topless sunbathing. I’m digressing already, first para in, this doesn’t bode well for this post, you better get a cuppa on hand), I already feel so much lighter, freer and focussed. I certainly don’t feel like I got naked on the internet.

My first step towards a healthier headspace was that I deleted social media for a couple of weeks to see what it was like going cold: quick disclaimer here, this is not a post about me sitting on a self-righteous judgy throne being all like, ‘I totally just digitally-detoxed, and I’m like totally a new person who lives in the moment now’, because that’s annoying, and also not true, but during some ‘reflection’ (I think that’s the professional term for what I’m doing here with this emotions business, though I’ve always been shite at professional terms), I observed that I’m quite shouty at myself in reference to my phone and social media use. Rather than just listening to these ongoing internal scoldings, I decided to reply to them quite simply by saying, ‘well let’s just try and find oout if you are really addicted, self-indulgent and not living in the moment. This idea was so basic (bitch), yet felt liberating. Being kind and reasonable to yourself, and responding to negative thought patterns rationally and with control, feels like some kind of revolutionary and rebellious act. I highly recommend it.

But first, I wanna go back in time….

xxx has invited you to join Facebook
xxx has invited you to join Facebook
xxx has invited you to join Facebook

“Do you keep getting these invites to this thing called Facebook?”

“Yeah”

“What even is it?!”

“I think it’s like Friends United, but less rubbish and not about school. Maybe more like mySpace, but not your own space; everyone’s all in the same place”

“Oh right. I don’t think I can be arsed. My MySpace is so good and I just worked out how to put a song on”

“Yeah and that video you added to your page of you doing the hula hoop WAS pretty cool”

“I know. It took me 12 days to work that out. It was worth it.”.

xxx has invited you to join Facebook
xxx has invited you to join Facebook
xxx has invited you to join Facebook

“So, I joined the Facebook – everyone’s on it”

“Who?!”

“Everyone. You can see what people, they write a ‘status’ thing and people have their own wall where you can leave messages on the wall and see people’s pictures”

“Shit. I’m totally joining. I want a wall.”

The year is 2006. Ben and I are living in Australia. I was sponsored to live there for a job I bagged in Melbourne. It’s my second ‘proper’ adult job. I’m really fit. I go to 7am kickboxing classes, to spar. We both skate longboards. We take 6am beach runs. We’re THAT couple. I take flying trapeze and pole dancing lessons. We live in an art deco one bedroom flat, which if you lean over the balcony and crane your neck a bit, you can see the sea. We do not have air conditioning, we can’t afford that. When it gets really hot in the summer, I make an ice bath before we go to sleep, and when we wake up hot in the night, we zombie shuffle to the en-suite and take a dunk. I put my pillow in the freezer before bed. We both agree this is a genius idea that we should probably be famous for it. There are penguins at the bottom of our pier. We buy food at the fresh food market every weekend, and I bring it back in a granny trolley on the tram.


It honestly is, as good as it sounds.

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