The journey of parenthood…

 

My two greatest accomplishments are by far my two children. I know pretty much every other blog post I’ve wrote is about me losing my shit with my kids during the testing times of parenthood but in all honesty it’s something I wouldn’t change for the world.

Becoming a Mother at 19 was again, never something I originally planned on, in fact I’d never even really given much thought to even having kids at that particular point in my life – instead it was something that landed upon me and I had every emotion run through my body as I watched that little stick of pee turn up with two blue lines.

In fact I proceeded to then do 11 more pregnancy tests as I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I was actually having a baby! At this point in my life depression and anxiety weren’t in the picture – and all my worries stemmed down to me now winging my way into teenage parenthood.

And yes Susan was even around back then – giving me funny looks for being a ‘Teenage Mum’ for having a child out of wed-lock and just the general look of disgust. (Go suck a toe Susan)

What is with the nation with slamming teenage mums? Some of us are better parents than middle aged mothers – our age does not define us in how we are as parents. It’s our ability upon how we parent, and how we raise our children that our parenting skills should be judged, not our age.

Thankfully at 19 I seemed to have an old head on my young shoulders and although I was fully aware of the major impact having a baby would have on my life – I knew I could do it.

My first little bundle of joy was born on 8th July 2008 – by C-Section at exactly 9:54am weighing a tiny 5lb 13oz and Peyton Eve Donnelly was introduced to the world.

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I know all parents say it, but she really was the most perfect thing my eyes had ever seen, and I was completely besotted with her.

After having Peyton it was so clear to me that having a child and building my family is something I so desperately wanted more of and so at 23 my little rocket of a son was born on 15th September 2011 at exactly 2:05pm weighing 6lb 11oz and Warwick Joseph Samuel Donnelly was introduced to the world.

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So at 23 I had a 3 year old, a newborn, a house, a full time job and was I studying AAT at college, on top of that Peyton was constantly in and out of hospital for her breathing or lack thereof, sometimes for weeks at a time and to say it was a struggle would be an understatement. I felt for my early twenties I was on the fast track in life. Would I have had it any other way?

No.

Sure they gave me some testing times, and I actually look back now and think how the fuck did I get through that? But I did.

My two little people are now coming 9 and 6 – and I am absolutely devastated at the rapid rate they are growing. No longer do they need me to spoon feed them, or read them a bed time story at night. No longer do i need to sterilise baby bottles and count the scoops of baby milk. My little people are now very dependant, every day testing their boundaries and not to mention mine.

My daughter has somewhat turned into the female version of Kevin & Perry. Every sentence out of her mouth is;

“But it’s not fairrrrrr!”

 “You don’t let me do anythinggg”

“I have the worst life ever”

Blah blah blah

The child doesn’t even know she is born let me tell you!

She tests my patience in every way possible because all of a sudden she now sees herself as a sulky teenager.

Last week she come down the stairs and told me she was going out.

 Going out? When the flying fuck have you ever been allowed out? NEVER. And so why do you think this random Monday evening will be any different?

Safe to say a temper tantrum was thrown – she proceeded to call me a spaz and I seen red and ended up sticking my middle finger up at her muttering ‘fucking cheeky bitch’ underneath my breath – that ladies and gentlemen is a parenting fail right there.

And not forgetting my son who is the most impatient male you will ever meet in your life. EVER.

He would also rather shout than talk – it’s like he is constantly plugged into an amplifier.

They make me laugh, they make me cry, they make me want to pull out every strand of my blonde hair, but they also make me want to stand up and shout “I’m their Mommy” and then in a full turn of events I will remain 10 steps behind them so that when they are kicking off in Tesco no one will think there mine!

“I don’t know them, I’ve never seen them before – Susan come and take care of your fucking kids!”

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Parenthood is the biggest journey we will embark on, it is the rockiest mountain we will climb yet we do it without question because our children are quite frankly our world.

All I have ever wanted to do is make my children proud of me, and give them a life they both so willingly deserve.

My guess is in 20 years time they will both sit and read this blog and think “Fuck, I knew she was a fucking nutter”

But I hope they are proud of me for laying my soul bare for the world to see in hope that I can just help one person.

There are some days where guilt completely erodes away at me, and I feel terrible for not giving my children the standard upbringing of having both their Mum and Dad living in the same house. I feel terrible that on every second weekend they pack their bags for a weekend away from their family home. Right now it doesn’t sit right with me, and in some ways I know it never will. But if you ask my children if they are happy I guarantee you they would say yes. So I’m trying not to sweat the small stuff – they are loved, adored and appreciated and as their Mother I am trying the best I possibly can.

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I am not Susan – I have tried to be like her – I have tried to gather my shit together and get more involved in extracurricular activities at their school – but when your known as the parent who has head locked two teachers and dragged them to the bar to force jagerbombs down their necks it doesn’t really sit all that well.

I also had to walk out of a parents evening once because I couldn’t stop laughing at Peyton’s teacher.

I was like a fucking giggly school girl trying her hardest not to laugh during mass – safe to say it was an absolute fucking fail and I had to leave – bearing in mind that I had turned up a day early for this said parents evening because I’m a fucking idiot and clearly can’t read the date right. 

FAIL.FAIL.FAIL.

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Upon on my fails that I have seemed to gather in my wake over the past 28 years I can honestly say that my two children have obliterated all of them – for I look at them and know that I got something absolutely right, in fact -perfect.

They make my days brighter (when they’re not being little shits) and I am super proud of the little people they have become – if this blog is still going when they actually turn into teenagers this might be a whole different fucking story.

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But for now my two little ducklings are in a row and that’s all I care about.

So,

Peyton & Warwick – this blog is for you. I hope there are a few years yet before you read it – one because this blog is not PG appropriate and two because knowing you Peyton you will go and blab all this crap to your teachers and I’ll get handed a restraining order.

But you both make me immensely proud, and I couldn’t think of any better job than being your Mummy.

Love Always,

Mum x

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