It’s official; I am a parent, Mummy, Mommy, Mama or whichever name my boy is calling me this week. So, as a writer and blogger, it would be irresponsible of me not to write a Mummy Blog.
I’m nearly three years late to the Mummy-blog party.
I haven’t avoided talking about my son. I have written about him; it just hasn’t got around to being digitised. I have notebooks and diaries that need tidying up and making coherent.
I have not had the time. There we go! Jumping straight in with the “I’m a mum. I haven’t had time” excuse.
I refuse to go down the road of spending my whole life and work talking about Mommy things, so I have created a section to hold the mommy and parent “I love/hate/adore/want to strangle” child-related, verbiage. If interested, you can look and read what I have to say on the subject, but it is not something that will be the main priority for this website.
Don’t like kids? Can’t stand reading yet another mommy-related stream of consciousness? Don’t look! Simple enough I think. It should stay firmly locked away in its little niche, but a bit of child-relation and mummy-ness may escape from time to time.
I don’t imagine that any of our battles and struggle, joys and moments of grace are fundamentally different to anyone else’s, but how we deal with them and how they affect us differ.
Given the fact that I’ve transcribed reams of pencil-written notes, there may a bit of chronological funkiness. I’ll try to keep things in order from now onward, but the first couple of years will be a bit of a mess. Please bear with me.
My boy has begun to grow into a spectacular example of opposing facets. Moments of pure grace segue into demonstrations of sheer malevolence (or at least that’s how it seems). I can’t keep up with how fast it is all going, I need to keep a record, so that Mummy can recount them at inappropriate and significant moments.