I always joke that if Motherhood doesn't kill me, nothing will. But truly, it is the ghetto over here with all its glory! 🚮🚮 I figure shit out as I go; it's like I'm constantly doing something new and it is taxing.
I had to choose to mother my Child different to how I was mothered and raised. Conscious, black parenting. It is my favourite thing to witness and partake in but the emotional stretches and internal intellectual conflicts are neverending. I remember how my nephew liked saying, before I became a mother, that, "Mmane a ka se bethe bana ba ha'e" because of how I treated him and his siblings and I'd respond that I would because that's what's expected. You have to beat your child so they do as they're told. You have to shout at them so they listen. I had to unlearn that - still am, actually - I sometimes find myself shouting or almost cracking under pressure and wanting to beat my Child. I may feel better afterwards but my Child won't. I have to constantly check myself. Check the parenting content I expose myself to. Seek support where possible.
Speaking of support, I can't emphasise enough how a mother flourishes when they have support. I wouldn't have passed my final exams if it weren't for support. I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for support. I wouldn't love my Child the way I do if it weren't for support. Emotional, financial, physical. It is not where I want it to be but it is there and I appreciate it. I appreciate my friends for holding space for me. My siblings for continuously believing in me. And my baby's Grandmothers for showing up when no one does, when no one can, and when no one wouldn't. And the growing parenting space on Social Media is wholesome. ❤️❤️
My Little One is almost 21 months old. The past month began with weaning her from breastfeeding. Prior to that I tried potty training but gave up somewhere along the way. I'm happy to report that the latter is currently going well - with all its oopsies and hoorays! I thought weaning would be the most frustrating part but it turns out potty training is. Nobody told me I would be up to help my Tot pee before I can even sit from the last peeing session! 😩😩 "A re ye r'o rota" has become our theme song - one of many. It's tiring, yoh! 🙄🙄
Weeks when my mother has other commitments and isn't readily available to help me breathe, I crack. I used to just hold it in and act like I have it figured out but now I let it all out. I bawl if I need to. Update a status to vent. Read parenting shit over and over again like the first time mother I am. Tell bullshitters to fuck off! Take shots of my Baby getting up to her everyday activities. Whatever helps. And then on to the next day.
I am still reconciling who I was before now and who I have become, am becoming. I don't know what this stage of my life is preparing me for but I know that I will be ready. I will enter the next stage of my life with gratitude and confidence. To growth. 🧡🧡✨✨
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