I am a product of Generation Y. Our expectations of life are great. We want everything yesterday and throw away anything we are bored of or no longer have use for. If we have a problem, we are more likely to search Google for an answer then to talk to our friends about it. Oh, and we think we deserve everything. And it better be perfect.
Effectively, I am a Gen Y mum. And I’m not alone.
There are plenty of mum-blogs on the internet, written by all sorts of mothers; easy-going, anxious, breast-feeding, bottle-feeding, co-sleeping, controlled crying, spoon feeding, baby-led weaning, first time mums, second, third, forth time mums. Mums who feel high, mums who feel low. Mums who just feel so-so.
So why do we feel compelled to write about our lives? After all, being a mother is nothing new. Women have been mothers since the dawn of our time, they have all conceived, grown, laboured and loved children. What is it about our internet-savy, fast-paced, 4×4 driving, latte drinking lives thats worth sharing?
Maybe because being a mother is one of the last real human experiences. Because when your baby is crying at 2am, or your 7 year old is having a tantrum, no amount of wishing or Googling senseless questions is going to help. It comes down to your instincts as a mum, advice from your own mother, or just pure luck. In these times we are able to switch off our Gen Y traits and be just a mum and her children in the moment, whatever that moment may be.
So I’m joining the bloggers, because I want to answer some of the questions that I have precariously typed into Google expecting a million answers and not receiving any. I want to take some time to reflect on the amazing journey I have been through with my daughters, and relish what I am still going through.
Because I know, I am extremely lucky to be a mum.
Guess it’s like starting a not-so-secret diary… and who knows, it may even be therapeutic.