Once upon a time long before marriage, children, the responsibilities of family life, and at a time when dinosaurs still roamed the earth; hubby & I used to date. These were the good Ol’ days where we’d lay in bed together until noon, dine at fancy restaurants, and converse in all things important to us. (Wait, does anyone actually know what normal people without kids talk about?? Before potty training, sleep cycles & consulting the Bristol stool chart to rate your toddler’s poo took over normal, polite conversation? The arts? Politics?? Current world events?? Our likes & dislikes?? I seriously can’t remember… but if you do- let me know!) Anyhoo, my point is we were once young, in love, footloose, fancy free & drunk on freedom (and possibly vodka).
So like, once upon a time there was a little girl who had very different dreams. When all the other little girls were playing with their dolly’s, dreaming of a life with Prince Charming & creating their happily ever after; here I was chopping off Barbie’s locks, tying her up behind my bike & tearing off into the sunset in a blaze of Barbie-bashing glory. And while I had nothing against the sisterhood & her quest for marriage, babies & white picket fences; even at an early age I just knew it wasn’t for me.
Fast forward 20- odd years & nothing much had changed. My friends had found their Prince Charming’s, settled down & were starting their picture perfect families. And I wasn’t too different. Except my ‘white picket fence’ was a white apartment in the big city, my ‘Prince Charming’ was the ‘charming enough’ random guy I’d be stumbling out of a nightclub with hand-in-hand at 3am; and the thought of pushing a watermelon out of my perfectly coiffed coochy made my uterus recoil.
I’d like to say that I was too busy breaking through glass ceilings, getting lost in wanderlust or just a raging lesbian, but I wasn’t. I was never going to be the Florence Nightingale of my profession (sorry to the Nurses & Feminists everywhere); I’m not the intrepid traveller & sadly, not a lesbian (yet) but I am due for a midlife crisis soon #hotgirlscomeatme. I was just happy shirking all types of long-term responsibility, enjoying long lunches & boozy nights, and taking care of the biggest child of all: me.
But all that changed the day a flame-haired ginger named ‘Cuddles’ answered my booty-call and came knocking at my door. Now maybe it was his boyish charm (he’s 5 years my junior), his youthful smile, or the promise of his Police-issued handcuffs swinging around my bedpost, but boy-oh-boy, Cuddles made my ovaries tingle. In the words of Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Whatta Man’, “Yo that shit is crazy, I think I wanna have your baby..” And I did, adding 2 kids to the world’s ginger population and destroying my perky tits forever #itwasworthit.
‘The Diva’ is my first child. At 2 years of age she’s fierce, bold, sassy, strong-willed and equally short-tempered. Basically everything a mother wishes for in a child, but only once they’ve flown the coup. This kid is going places. She’ll be the highly strung CEO of her wildly successful enterprise one day & hopefully not the ring leader of some organised crime syndicate. We have high hopes at least.
Fresh-out-of-the-uterus is my latest kid, my ‘zen’ child and cleft-cutie (5 months). He’s the calm to my wild and the yin to my yang. This perfect, chilled little man has been sent to me to challenge everything I’ve ever thought about myself. He’s the type of baby every mother wishes for & every baby book writes about. He makes motherhood seem easy. If I’d had him first I’d probably have popped out 6 more kids by now in celebration. Luckily ‘the diva’ kicks that pipe-dream in the testicles daily.
And who am I? I’m a woman who never saw a life with a husband or children on the horizon but has been blessed nonetheless. I’m just your regular sleep-deprived, nagging, sarcasm-loving, saggy-titted woman trying to navigate through this minefield that is motherhood.
I’m a friend. A lover. A wife. Mother of two.
Just kidding.. I’m wired (on caffeine). I’m sassy. Sarcastic. Chronically tired. Avoiding sex (look where’s it’s got me). And managing motherhood the best way I can.
I am Helenka- The Unlikely Mummy.