Almost three years on since becoming a parent, I am still at war with myself. I am still battling the minefield of expectation.
Before becoming a parent, I had this glorious expectation of what being a mother would be. It was wrong. It was A LOT harder than I expected.
Before becoming a parent, I had this rose tinted exception of what our family unit would be. It was wrong. It is a lot less dreamier than I expected.
On mother’s day this year, I had this silly expectation that I was going to have a mother’s day just like in those ads, that I would feel so overwhelmed with love and laughter. It was wrong. I was reduced to tears within a couple of hours.
On our first family holiday abroad, I had this excitable expectation that we were going to have THE BEST family adventure out together. I was wrong. It was stressful and totally unenjoyable for 75% of the time.
You would have thought, given the fact that I write this blog, I would have finally got my expectations of being a parent into check. Am I the only over-expecter in this parenting thing? Or are we all secretly over-expecting and then feeling crushingly useless when the expectations do not even come close to the reality? Is this just something mums feel as women being the over-analysers in life, or do dads have a sense of this too?
I read recently that one of the secrets to being a confident parent is to not expect too much, nor too little. If that’s true, which I suspect it is, then boy am I in trouble. The question is…how do we recondition our brains to expect less….to just “get it done”…when all along we have been somehow been led to expect so much more? Answers on a postcard (or comment!) below please.
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