'Motherhood has given me a sense of purpose. I've also never been so bored.'

What is it about motherhood and our crazy ability to forget we’re only human? We suddenly set ourselves these impossibly high standards. 

Somehow our days disappear in a blur of nappies, laundry, feeding, wishing they would stop crying, wondering how you made something so beautiful, more nappies and miraculously even more laundry. 

Every day I question my abilities as a mother. I’m not patient enough. I cave too soon when she stirs at night. I don’t read the recommended amount of books every day. I swear too much. 

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The last six months have gone so fast I honestly don’t even know where the time went. I have been so wrapped up in my baby. Obsessed with my baby. That I haven’t had time to think about much else.

But we’ve evolved into a new phase of babyhood. One where my baby naps, a lot. She plays independently and prefers I leave her to it. So I suddenly find myself with way too much time on my hands and a growing disdain towards the housework I once found relaxing.

So what changed? What I’m about to admit to you is something a lot of us feel but are too ashamed to admit. Being a mother is not enough. 

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being a mother. Motherhood has given my life the sense of purpose that I never had before and I couldn’t be happier with my little family. I’ve also never been so bored. 

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My days consist of caring for my baby – when she lets me. Re-reading the same 30 picture books a million times. Laundry. Dishes. Cleaning up after my husband. Cleaning up after my dog. Meeting up with my mum friends and talking about our beautiful babies. Laundry.  

Here’s the thing. I didn’t spend my 20s building a great and stable career I could fall back on. I’m a freelance writer with two work from home businesses, a scenario I specifically created to give myself the freedom of earning an income but still being at home with my baby.

So why do I feel like I’ve lost a huge part of who I am? Like I have morphed into this brand new ‘mum’ version of me that somehow feels like a stranger I’m still getting acquainted with.  

Some women have this incredible ability to play with children in a way that has me in awe. They can play with them ‘on their level’ and really connect with them. They can play for hours making animal noises and ‘vroom vroom’ sounds with little cars like it’s the most fun they’ve ever had.

I am not that woman. As much as I enjoy playing with my daughter and watching her learn and grow, my interest in rainbow-coloured plastic is limited. I do it because I know it’s good for her development and that’s really it. The message to take from this is that it’s okay that we don’t necessarily love playing with big plastic block letters and sounding out D-O-G again and again. What matters is that we do it even though it bores us to tears. 

This should be something we’re not afraid to talk about. It does not make you a bad mother to not feel completed by housework and the conversation skills of a toddler. As much as we would walk through fire for our little grubs, poets they are not. 

So don’t beat yourself up if you’re finding the whole stay-at-home mum gig isn’t quite as mentally stimulating as you may have thought.  I promise you, you’re not alone.

Image: Getty. 

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