The 5 words mothers aren’t supposed to say.

By ALISSA WARREN

I like being a mum.

There, I said it.

In fact, I’ll go one step further. I love being a mum.

For years, I’ve been a bit sheepish about admitting it. I’d go as far as to say I felt a bit embarrassed.

Admitting you enjoy motherhood is met with the same looks you might get if you mentioned that you wear a Batman mask for fun. Or you wash your bed linen twice a day.

Like, what?

Somehow, this innocent, OBVIOUS statement has become almost socially unacceptable to say out loud.

Those five little words.

I love being a mum.

I’ve thought about this a lot lately. About why there is a stigma to saying you love motherhood. And I think there are three reasons we’re reluctant to say it.

The first is that up until relatively recently, saying “I love it!” was the only possible answer to the question “Are you enjoying motherhood?” There were no other acceptable options. As soon as they had children, women had to hide their unhappiness, their frustration, their guilt, their anxiety and their boredom for fear of being labelled a bad mother or an ungrateful one. Being negative or honest was frowned upon so women self-censored. Post natal depression didn’t even have a name let alone any community or medical understanding.

Being able to speak openly about the hard parts of motherhood has been undoubtedly a positive thing. It’s a less isolating experience now. There’s a better, wider understanding of the challenges involved in parenthood. There’s no longer pressure to be a Carol Brady Stepford Wife who’s hap-hap-happy all the time!

The result of this though, is that the pendulum has swung too far. There’s a sense among some women that by being positive about motherhood, you’re somehow letting the side down. Which confused me for a long time. Because when I say I love motherhood, I’m not suggesting everyone should. Not all the time, anyway. I’m not undermining anything any other woman wants to say about the experience. I’m not implicitly criticising any other mother for being less positive than me.

But surely my voice and my experience counts too? Surely there’s room for a range of different expressions about the experience of motherhood? Why does one sentiment have to cancel out another? It doesn’t.

The conversations about motherhood are so often about the struggles, the tantrums, the balance, the homework and the no-sleep. Sure, there’s that.

But recently, it’s become ONLY that. Because sometimes it feels like mothers aren’t really allowed to say we love motherhood. With good intentions, the good stuff has taken a backseat for fear of offending people who didn’t/couldn’t have children and for fear of upsetting the mothers who were struggling.

Peversely, singing the praises of motherhood has pretty much become taboo.

Have we been shit-canning motherhood for so long and in such depth, that we can’t even remember – and savour – the main game?

I’m reclaiming the land. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel for women who can’t have children or that I think childless women are living incomplete lives. Nor do I want to be insensitive to mothers who can’t be parents, who want to be – a sadness I can’t begin to imagine.

But I’d like to put an end to the collective shaming of ‘enjoying life with children’.

Because I love it. And I’m not ashamed to say, these are the bits I love the most.

1. It’s full.

My life is packed. Full of cuddles, arguments, questions like, ‘does God have eyes?’ and squeaky little voices. Their words fill the air. Always. Their little lives fill my heart. And literally, too. I have so many Nurofen syringes that I don’t have anywhere to put my kitchen scissors. I have so many colourful drink bottles busting from our Tupperware drawer that I had to throw out my extra tea towels. My days are long, my weeks are fast. They’re full. And fulfilling.

2. My kids have given me the greatest gift: patience.

Children don’t rush to put their shoes on, do a wee, get into the car, sit in their carseat or put their seatbelt on. This process once took me about 7.5 seconds. It takes my children a minimum of 17 minutes. This busy life has the slowest of moments and while it’s taken me a long time to stop nagging and embrace it. (However, I believe others may not be so keen to embrace how LATE we are).

3. It’s fun.

Oh, the horror. I just said motherhood was F-U-N! I can hear the sharpening of pitchforks. But it’s true. It’s funny and it’s fun. My kids’ little faces when I tell them they can have Weet Bix for dinner. Or the way they stare at themselves in the reflection of the mirror to see their little teeth. Or when they blame a fart on someone else. Or when they talk to birds. It’s humour at it’s purest and most original.

4. There’s no bullshit.

There’s no room for sensitive souls on the home front. Everyone gets a dressing down. There’s little space for a mum to have a ‘bad day’ and wallow around feeling sorry for herself. There’s no better pick-me-up than a forced one.

5. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.

Enough said.

But that’s the thing, there’s not enough being said.

The ingredients that make up motherhood should be celebrated for their simplicity and loveliness. Let’s reignite the love.

What do you love about being a mum?