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All the ways I’m trying to be “perfect” and why it’s a total mind f*&k

June 07, 2017 5 min read

A day in the life of one mama who is forever attempting the bloody ridiculous and totally impossible tightrope act of perfection. Do not try this at home. It’s a total mind f*&k. xx Marnie

 5.30am

I get up! Totally willingly of course, because today is a fabulous new day filled with potential and the wonderment of seeing my offspring growing up before my eyes but also because I have a tiny critter giving my nipple a Chinese burn while demanding bananas. I set him up with said banana in front of the TV – Peppa Pig (I bow down to thee) – but only three (or four or five or ten) episodes coz you know, scientific studies say screen time gives your child square eyes, rotting brain, you’re a neglectful parent. I sit down to do some mindfulness/meditation/yoga shit in these precious minutes. Perfect mamas can both care for their children and their own mental/spiritual/emotional wellbeing! I close my eyes and take deeeeep breaths, clearing my mind of everything - except; visions of burning River’s porridge, piles of washing lurking in the corner of every room, my husband’s job interview and whether or not we’ll be poor and destitute in two weeks when his contract finishes, oh and Trump and how the world is spiraling into a pit of political despair. Anyway yay wasn’t that relaxing and good for the mind/body/soul.

8am

Dishes done, house somewhat resembling livable, washing on, squeezed in answering emails while child hangs off my leg demanding attention #girlboss #mumpreneur. Now it’s time for a walk! Yes, I am a perfect specimen of health & holistic wellbeing! I plop River in the stroller and head out into the freezing morning. But I’m not complaining – hell no! - I’m appreciating the fresh air, the chance to stretch my legs (you know some people don’t have legs so I should be grateful). I even walk up a hill – what a champion. But I can’t just pant and sweat my way through this walk. Of course not! I have my child with me and there are learning opportunities – look sweetheart, some trees! What colour are their leaves? Green, well done! And do you know why trees have green leaves – fuck me neither!

Marnie walking and drinking wine | Eskimo Nell

{Left: Me being perfect! Right: Me drinking wine}

8.45am  

We get home – River is pretending to push a pair of my shoes around in his toy pram #nogendersterotypeshurrr which allows me a 5-8 minute time slot to shower and make myself look funky, chic, put-together but not like I’m trying too hard. Heaven forbid I wear something just for its utility! But wait wait wait, cleavage and practicality check – have I nailed hobo chic or have we gone hobo slut or just hobo hobo.  Baby sensory class mums will totally talk if my look is more K Road than Wednesday morning Under the Sea theme at Point Chev Presbytarian church.

9am

Holy shitballs it’s 9am - morning activity time! Today’s outing is the Science Playroom which is amazing because it’s fully fenced in and the children can’t escape. Big win. We are waiting for friends so I get out my phone to check my social media, to stay on top of what’s cool, what my friends are doing, what’s happening in the world. But only for a few minutes – before it becomes oh so unacceptable in the judgey eyes of other even-more-perfect-than-me-mums who NEVER look at their phones. Our friends arrive – the kids head past the super intellectually stimulating activities and make a beeline for the sandpit to fling it into the doll’s house and basically everywhere they’re not meant to. Which is sweet as coz we’re chill mums, we’re cool mums who don’t helicopter parent and you know, let kids be kids. But we’re also not slacker mums either so we find the perfect mix of kinda cool kinda all over the learning opportunities but definitely not calling them naughty/bad/etc and definitely using phrases like “the sand lives in the sandbox and it would be much happier in there than in the doll house”. Phew perfect parenting moment accomplished so we steal away for a coffee (decaf for me – hello anxiety) and a chat. We catch up on what new things our kids are doing (in a totally proud but totally humble definitely not bragging manner), how they’re sleeping (still not fab, 20 months later) and then move on to important, philosophical matters coz you know, our lives can’t just revolve around our offspring, a perfect mum must be able to have fantastically interesting conversations on all sorts of issues including politics, philosophy, and current affairs.

Midday  

The child sleeps! ‘Tis a miracle. Ah-ha the prefect time for me to clean the house/hang out the washing/eat a well-balanced meal with superfoods and all that/cram 3 hours of work into 15 minutes/listen to an educational podcast (see: former point about fantastically interesting conversations)/keep our family budget excel spreadsheet up to date with accurate forecasting of future ability to implement landscaping work in the next few months/scroll Instagram to feel like a normal person connected to the outside world/oh wow, the baby’s awake and demanding bananas. Again.

Hurrah for Gin | Eskimo Nell

{The struggle is REAAAAAL - credit: The incredibly hilarious and totally imperfectly perfect Hurrah for Gin}

4pm

Time to make dinner, the never-ending cycle of preparing meals for a toddler whose taste buds are more volatile than the situation in the Middle East (wow those educational podcasts are really paying off). As the quinoa, baked cumin-spiced kumara falafel Moroccan patties with a side of broccolini is cooking I start to message my non-mum friends about going for a wine/cheese/dinner/gilmoregirlsmarathon just like the old days, which I will 100% delete before sending as the only thing worse than never making plans is being a flake. Thank god it’s completely and utterly 10/10 acceptable perfect mum behaviour to pour a giant glass of wine in the middle of the afternoon.

6.30pm

Hallelujah, the husband is home! I am the picture of domestic perfection and totally resist the urge to fling the baby (who has taken one bite of the falafels and declared them yukky and relentlessly requested with a prodding finger only blueberries for dinner regardless of the fact that I oh so perfectly and super zen like explained to him that it’s dinner time darling and we must eat all our delicious food otherwise we’ll be hungry and wake up at 1.30 fucking-a.m demanding bananas!!!!) at him and escape to, well anywhere really. Instead I greet him with a mile-wide smile (thank you giant wine) and a hey babe how was your day I’m suuuuuper interested and can’t wait to hear all about it! No no keep talking I can absolutely engage in a conversation while wrestling a tiny person with poo smooshing through into their trousers.

8.30pm

We’re finally alone. Just the two of us. How nice is that – quality time. My mental bandwith is literally zero and I really just want to stalk people on Instagram and watch political satire videos but in the spirit of being perfect I attempt to engage in meaningful conversation about interesting and insightful things (while avoiding anything downer, of course, such as mealtimetantrums/poop/sleepandorlackthereof/anxiety/dishes/cleaning/washing/logistics) coz not only am I a cool mum but I’m a cool wife too.

11pm

I make mental notes – hell who am I kidding, I am making actual physical notes on all the things I need to do tomorrow (perfection doesn’t just make itself people) before slipping into a super sexy matching tank top and panties to hop into bed looking like a dream saucy princess for my husband. Bahahahhahaha okay that last bit is absolutely not true so maybe I’m not 100% perfect after all.

THANK GOD.

We are all Queens | Eskimo Nell

{How I really feel about being perfect}


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