Random pleasures of parenthood

Louise McLaren - 13 Jan 15

Surrounded at home by the detritus the nursery bug leaves in its wake – the snotty tissues; the toys abandoned with a whine after 5 seconds; the various foodstuffs tentatively tried and discarded with a grimace – it’s easy to reflect on the unexpected challenges of parenthood. The nursery bug extravaganza being one of them. (Therein lies another whiny blog post of the kind I fear is my natural orientation – life is difficult, yadda yadda).

However, with a runny-nosed Young Sir having to my surprise and delight gone to bed without a battle, my mind has instead turned to the myriad minor triumphs that being a mother brings. The unsung moments where things go that bit better than anticipated. The thrill of the everyday experience that somehow rams home how wonderful it can be to be responsible for a small human. And the random slightly guilty side-benefits of parenthood.

Such as…

The ready-made excuse
I knew I was ready to be a mother when I registered that I just couldn’t be faffed to go to many social occasions. Unless they involved the minimum travel effort and came accompanied by good food and wine, the sofa was a more tempting proposition at the end of a busy work week. Well, rather pathetically, now it’s that bit easier to get out of stuff I don’t really want to do. Which brings me on to…

The handy distraction
I can’t be the only person who finds herself at one of those parent-and-child party scenarios where it’s a bit of a challenge to make conversation because, really, all you have in common is the fact you have children of a similar age. Or there are the social occasions even with close friends and family where you’re just a bit too zonked to sustain good conversation. Thankfully, the demands of a baby or toddler make it easy to get out of having to engage properly.

I do admit that on the flip-side, when you do want to talk to your friends properly, a whiny young child wanting constant attention can feel a bit embarrassing, especially if those friends don’t have kids themselves. And thinking about whining…

The fluke ‘yes, it worked!’ moment
When the likely scenario is always some form of meltdown and the resulting draining of any pleasure or sense of calm from the occasion, the odd times that everything goes so smoothly you think someone is looking down on you can bring such unexpected joy. It’s the little things…

The trip to the restaurant where you can actually enjoy your meal and eat it hot and not so fast you practically inhale it, because the child is happily entertaining himself and eating all that is placed in front of him. The plane trip where everything goes so smoothly and to schedule that there are no over-tired or hungry tantrums.

These moments where you feel you actually have some control over your life again. But you know you need to savour it before the pause point passes with a wail and foot-stomp. And on the note of wailing and foot-stomping…

All the random comedy
But positively, while there’s the acting out as a frustrated means of communication, there are also a whole lot of bizarre laugh-out-loud points to punctuate the average day. I somehow expected that the humour reward could only kick in when they could talk. And was delighted to learn that it begins much earlier than that (as does tantruming, to my initial surprise).

The odd obsessions (Drains, anyone? Keys? The Moon?), or the unselfconscious behaviour – doing a downward dog repeatedly in the middle of the library, for example… When they’re not ill or throwing a wobbly, young children are so hilarious I find myself laughing like, erm, a drain.

The communication foot-steps
For such a long time, communication is a largely one-way process and involves a tiring amount of guesswork. Perhaps it’s a facet of having a boy (and one who seems not that bothered about the whole chatting thing) – when he does learn a new word, or when he picks up an understanding of a new object or action with surprising speed, there is a little relief, I’ll admit. But also a heart-warming feeling at seeing this little person develop and become better able to interact. Which of course doesn’t do away with the tantrums…

I quite like the mindfulness notion of celebrating the everyday.

And I think that can make parenting a bit easier. I’ve read a credible theory that being a parent doesn’t make you any happier, which much data does support. There are higher highs than you might otherwise experience in the normal day, but lower lows, and there are pleasures you could never access otherwise but many things you miss out on at the same time. And all these things balance out against the benefits of being childless. I can believe it.

There are also all those people who tell you to enjoy it now because it won’t last. How can I when HE.JUST.WON’T.SLEEP, you might want to scream (I have certainly wanted to). Fair enough – it’s too easy for those well-meaning sources of advice to forget the battles of the reluctant eater, the sleep fighter… But it’s also too easy for all of us, amidst the chaos, the mess, the screaming, to skim over all the little joys of the everyday. But those little joys are a lot of what make parenthood such a delight, if we let them.

Motherhood is different for all of us… if you’d like to share your thoughts, why not join our Network & start posting?

Louise McLaren

Louise is a marketing consultant and mother to toddler Rory. She constantly finds herself thinking that her son is the most amazing thing in the world and she can't believe he exists, but a few seconds later that she must get away from the tantrums right this second and have a holiday... Where is her husband when she needs him?!

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