I’m kind of rolling my eyes in anticipation of my own entry here.
I definitely have mummy-blog fatigue. Want proof? I have a folder in my Google Reader called Parenting. Every few months, I will subscribe to a blog, then inevitably, I will delete it a week or so later.
It could be argued that this is because I had read every possible thing about parenting by the time I was 14 weeks pregnant.
It might also be because I don’t enjoy the current themes of intelligent middle-class motherhood. It’s tedious. It’s fractious and self-righteous. And I haven’t forgotten, it’s everything I was when I first became a parent (and still can be from time to time).
My favourite book for new parents is Baby Love by Robin Barker, because the subtext clearly says, “I don’t give a crap what you do and I’m honestly sick of hearing your opinions, but here’s how you change a nappy, FFS.” At the same time you know the sheer joy of cuddly little creatures runs fizzing through her veins.
Despite having parenting philosophy fatigue, I am impossibly, head over heels maternal. I walk past a baby farm style daycare on my way to boot camp, and every time there is a child inconsolably screaming, and every time I do emotional somersaults just to get past them to my kettlebells.
I did not know I was maternal, when I was younger, despite always liking babies and small kids. Here are some of my character traits that I thought were incompatible with motherhood: petulance, laziness, rebelliousness, adventurousness, spirit, sloppiness. It turns out they’re not.
I am sure there are fresh and interesting things to be said about parenting, and I’ve read many of them from you guys on this blog (and from our small but essential team of commenters). This is a short post, but I open the floor to questions. If there’s anything you’d like to know about me and how I’ve parented, or been parented, I’ll be delighted to answer. If you’re just over the whole thing already, that’s fine – we’ve got a new topic next week :-).