Not so long ago, there was no internet.
I don’t know what new mums did then; cried more is a possibility. (They’ll tell you they spent that time marvelling at their own creations. They are lying. They possibly did this maybe 5% more than we do now, but anything else is codswollop).
Then there was internet, and very quickly after that came the invention of social media. A fabulous platform that allows us all to share our lives in an alarming level of detail with some – perhaps unreasonable – regularity. In the first few glory days of such sites it was all about how wonderful everybody’s lives are and how adorable one’s children. Aren’t we all #soblessed?
Fast forward to the present day (please, don’t ask me what day it actually is; I have small children and subsequently no idea about things as arbitrary as the date) and there is a plethora, no, an army of mummy bloggers who are all here to call out on the B.S. of feeling #soblessed 24/7.
These women are trailblazers, visionaries and revolutionists. They would be heralded in a glamorous awards ceremony if those of us in a position to appreciate their true value could get it together enough to slap on a bit of make-up and organise a shin-dig that didn’t necessitate soft play paraphernalia and/or a life size TV character (verbal capabilities optional).
Yes, parenthood is still a thing. It hasn’t changed vastly – although the debates on health and safety extremes and organic everything will rage on regardless – you still need to birth a child, feed it, educate it and instil values in it. How you go about these mammoth tasks is, frankly, your own business, but the mummy-bloggers will always, but always, have a story to tell or a follower to listen to that will help.
Just as parenthood is much the same as it always was, humankind similarly is still a glorious cocktail of empathy, kindness and judgy know-it-alls who will happily ram their opinions down your throat and at a vulnerable time in your life the latter can be overwhelming. In this day and age when we are increasingly keeping our mental-health in check, it’s easy to fall foul of the ‘kind’ advice of a random stranger, who feels it appropriate to tell you how best to handle a full-on public toddler tantrum.
And so it seems fitting that the very arena that gave us our inadequacies is simultaneously throwing us a lifeline; the sorority of mums who are positively shouting about the fact that they’re making it up as they go along, and have no idea if they’re #makingmemories or lining the pockets of their children’s future therapists.
These women are honest, open and heartfelt. They are the everyday heroes that will help us get through our lives and all I can do is hope to become one when I grow up.