Updating The Mother Rulebook

Tetyana Denford - 1 Apr 16

When I have kids, I’m going to surround them with organically-sourced everything. I’m going to spend my time hand-making making purees, breastfeed them for 6 years, they will never have dummies, I will never turn on the television, I will only buy them wooden toys (no plastic. NO PLASTIC) and dress them in hand-sewn cotton clothes. I will never shout at them. I will never get frustrated, I will always be calm and use hushed tones when speaking to them, I will dress them in clothes that match, they will never get time-outs and I will routine their day to the nth degree.

Go ahead. Laugh at me. *I* certainly have, in hindsight.

I had a list, both in my head and on paper, of How To Be The Best Mother Ever. I made up this list in my head. It was ridiculous. I had no idea what to expect whilst expecting, but I wanted to be the best mother I could, and if a book told me how to do it, I would devour it, and anything else on the shelves, and use other people as examples of perfect mothering, and I vowed to follow whatever rules I needed to. Let’s just say that by the time the 3rd baby came along, I was convinced that I had gone temporarily insane from 2009-2011, and quickly realised that the ‘screw it, the kid’s happy, do whatever works’ method was the rational way to go.  

Someone once told me: ‘kids are like pancakes. you kind of screw up the first one, but by the second or even the third, you get the hang of it.’ I realised that when he said ‘getting the hang of it’ he meant less about controlling everything and more about ‘getting the hang’ of what makes you happiest as a mother and to trust your instincts when it comes to your own kids. So, I made a new list for myself (I like making lists, obviously. Don’t judge. It’s a curse.). The list is now WHO I THOUGHT I WOULD BE AS A MOTHER vs WHO I REALLY AM AS A MOTHER. 

In summary…

EXPECTATION: No dummies. Dummies are bad. 

REALITY: Ooooh! This is your special dummy. You can have 6 different ones in lovely colours, and they are your magical special toys that will help you sleep and stop screaming because if you don’t take them, mummy will start hallucinating sparkly green men because mummy hasn’t slept in 3 years. OHPLEASEDEARLORD Take. The. Dummy. 

EXPECTATION: I am buying a steamer/puree machine to take the time to make purees so you don’t choke on a carrot because I have no idea what baby-lead weaning is and it sounds scary and messy.

REALITY: Here’s a Wotsit. And some cake. *scrapes orange fingerprints off kitchen wall*

EXPECTATION: OH NO,  you dropped that on the floor DON’T TOUCH IT, where the hell is the hand sanitiser?!?!??

REALITY: *blows hair and dust off a cheerio* Here you go, honey. Finish your breakfast.

EXPECTATION: I will breastfeed until he’s 5.

REALITY: My boobs are like empty tube socks, I can’t get more than a teaspoon full of milk out, like, ever, and I’m constantly sobbing from feeling like the ultimate failure. Hand me 6 cases of formula.

EXPECTATION: I will never buy plastic toys.

REALITY: LOOK! Look at that giant yellow pirate ship that plays 5 different nursery rhymes and flashes rainbows onto the wall and makes pirate-shouting noises! Do you want it? Ooh you stopped your tantrum! Okay how about 2 of them?

EXPECTATION: I will never raise my voice to my children, I will be a calm, patient mother and talk to them in hushed tones.

REALITY: For the 50th time, if you do not stay in bed I swear I AM GOING TO SELL YOU ALL TO THE GODDAMN ZOO. *storms down the stairs hissing*

EXPECTATION: I am going to iron their clothes and tidy the house once they’re in bed.

REALITY: *looks at pile of laundry, dishes in the sink and dust bunnies under the fridge. turns on television, pours a glass of wine.* 

EXPECTATION: I will use summer holidays as a time to bond with my kids and cherish the moments together.

REALITY: *at the beach* STOP EATING THE SAND! DON’T WEE ON YOUR SISTER’S SANDCASTLE! STOP BEGGING RANDOM PEOPLE FOR SNACKS! SOD THIS, WE’RE GOING HOME. 

EXPECTATION: I will always cook healthy meals, dinner times will be important family time spent talking about our day.

REALITY: Here’s some frozen pizza and cucumber. *puts head on the table* Eat your dinner. No, I don’t know where daddy is. Show mummy that you can play the Eat In Silence game. Hurry up, bedtime is in 30 minutes. 

EXPECTATION: My children will understand the art of conflict resolution and they will not argue with each other.

REALITY: “SORT IT OUT FOR GODS SAKE!” *locks the bedroom door, hopes there will be no broken limbs, the car has no petrol so can’t drive to A&E…*

EXPECTATION: I will always make sure to catch them when they fall.

REALITY: *shouts across park* YOU OKAY? NO BLOOD? CAN YOU REMEMBER WHERE YOU ARE? FANTASTIC! KEEP PLAYING! *sits back down on the bench, scrolls through Instagram*

EXPECTATION: I should always buy them clothes that match. They’ll never look messy.

REALITY: Green spotted tights, football shorts, a self-constructed half shirt with juice stain on it and a braid in front of your face? Oh, Nana’s birthday dinner will be amazing.

EXPECTATION: I will bake them sugar-free birthday cakes from scratch.

REALITY: M&S slab cake, already iced with rainbow sprinkles. Result. 

EXPECTATION: I will not use the television as a babysitting tool.

REALITY: Look, kids! It’s 2 hours of non-stop Peppa Pig episodes! Mummy can take a shower and shop for shoes online. MIRACLES ARE REAL!

EXPECTATION: I will always have a date night with my husband. Our relationship is important.

REALITY: Him: ‘We should go out to dinner one of these days’. Me: *Puts on sweatpants* ‘Sure, how does August 17th, 2019 sound?’ 

EXPECTATION: I will always negotiate a tantrum with patience and assertive composure.

REALITY: ‘Who’s child is that on the floor, screeching like a dying pterodactyl?! Someone needs to sort that out.’ *whistles, walks over to the wine aisle*

EXPECTATION: I will save every single thing they ever paint, craft, construct and colour.

REALITY: *tries to hide bin bags full of art projects like some Columbian drug mule*

EXPECTATION: I will love them fiercely, without measure, and unconditionally, and I will let them know that having loud voices and limitless dreams will make them beautiful and amazing and extraordinary.

REALITY: I love them fiercely, without measure, and unconditionally,  and I always let them know that having loud voices and limitless dreams makes them beautiful and amazing and extraordinary. 

And maybe sometimes, expectations and reality become happily joined. And it’s a great thing.

First published on Aug 1, 2016

Tetyana Denford

Tetyana is a Ukrainian-American mum of three, married to an Englishman, living in NY. She's written for Elle and Vogue magazines, and her first novel 'Motherland' is available at Amazon. She hosts a YouTube show called The Craft and Business of Books, translates for Frontline PBS news, and writes freelance.

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