A no bullshit zone

Since I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve had a lot of comments from people about the content, nearly all of which, I have to say, has been amazingly kind and supportive. Thank you 🙂 However, someone I know said something to me recently about it, which really made me think and want to extend an apology, of sorts.

“Kerrie, has having a baby got any easier because I have to say your blog is really not selling it to me.” My friend in question went on to say she wanted kids but my blog had really put her off. And while I know she was joking, to an extent, I can see how, since I’ve had Rex, my blog posts could quite easily make anyone thinking of procreating feel that way.

This got me thinking of how quick I am to share the bad bits and not so much of the good. Problem is, the good with a newborn baby is brushing your hair before you go out, or getting out the door with a top on that’s not covered in baby sick, none of which I would call exciting/read-worthy. Now that Rex is a little older, the good is that he’s recently started smiling socially, which I could honestly bang on about all the live long day because it is beyond beautiful. But it’s beautiful and exciting to me because he’s mine and the truth is, no-one apart from Eamo and I really give that much of a shit about whether he smiled, farted loudly or made a different noise today so I’m not going to bore anyone else with it.

I would love to be able to write that the last six weeks have been amazing and that Rex is a brilliant baby and that I love life 100% of the time. But that is utter bollox. The truth is, the first few weeks are just a bit shit. End of. Yesterday, in fact, I told Eamo I didn’t want to look after Rex anymore. He’d screamed all fucking day, which made me an emotional wreck and I’d totally had enough. But today he’s been an absolute dream. You simply have to remind yourself that when it’s shit to just get through it because tomorrow is another day, and when it’s good, to drink in every last second of it.

With every day that passes, as Rex and I find our feet and come to more and more of an understanding, it gets a little less shit. For example, today he watched the washing machine for a good 10 minutes, smiling away at it and his little arms and legs going crackers when it started spinning. As ridiculous as it sounds, those are the moments that make all the shit you’ve gone through to that point just melt away.

So to every new parent or wannabe parent or parent-to-be reading this, I’m sorry if my moaning and (probably a bit too brutally) honest account of parenthood in the early stages has put you off becoming a mum or dad. That was obviously never the intention of this blog. However, I’m not going to bullshit anyone by saying it’s easy. And when you have a kid, the last thing you’re going to want to read when it’s driving you to the point of insanity is a blog that says it’s all sunshine and roses, trust me. Because it unequivocally fucking isn’t (unless you’re a lucky bastard and get a baby with absolutely zero issues). But, just wait til your little’un too is completely taken with some of the white goods in your house and you’ll see exactly what I mean when I say it’s all totally worth it.

Tiny digital footprints

When I found out I was pregnant I remember thinking I was definitely not going to be one of those parents who spammed everyone’s social media accounts with pictures of my child. Mainly because, as I mentioned above, while I think everything Rex does (apart from scream, obviously) is the most amazing/cutest thing in the world and have about a billion photos of him doing whatever it may be, I am very aware that no-one else gives a tiny rat ass.

However, even the best laid plans have blips, and mine so far have been that I have totally become that parent. Sorry everyone.

While Rex is so young and still growing into his face, I’m not worried about his digital footprint too much yet. But that will change soon and I will be much more selective when, and if, even, I post pictures of him on social media. It should be his choice if he has a presence online, not mine, and when he grows up to be the next Richie McCaw (if Daddy has his way) or Billy Elliot (if Mummy has her way), I’d hate for the internet to be filled with embarrassing images from his childhood that could potentially come back to haunt him.

We’re all very quick to post things on social media these days without thinking about the long term implications. But once something is up, it’s up. And it’s there forever. So soon I shall start printing photos to put up at home instead – a wild concept, I know, but that’s how we roll in this house. Until then, here’s one that I plan to use when he turns 18… 🙂

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