What if you’re not cut out for being a mum?

First of all, you are. You’re a great mum. But you might have come here in the hope that perhaps someone is going to tell you they feel the same way. And I am going to do just that my love because yep, you’ve guessed it…some days, I just don’t want to be “mum” anymore either.

There. I’ve said the unsayable but I don’t feel the associated guilt you’re expecting me to now write about.

Hating motherhood, is just a fact some of the time – some days of toddler wrangling make me want to pick up my car keys and drive far, far away. Which sounds like the start of a fairytale but would probably end with my howling into a coffee in a McDonalds car park.

I guess there might be a “wtf” moment for people reading this, who don’t relate because in all honesty, I’m not sure it’s the done thing to come out and say all this.

But never one to follow a rulebook, I’m saying it anyway because I reckon there’s a lot of mum’s out there who feel the same  and I don’t want you thinking it’s unusual or that you’re a “bad mum” for harbouring these feelings from time to time.

The truth about parenting is that there are days of such joy and wonder that you would willingly hop under the covers and make another tiny little person. Then there are days like the one I had yesterday, that make me want to walk away or at least heavily self-medicate. But most days are just somewhere in-between aren’t they? A mixture of great and awful and a whole lot of Peppa Pig mediocre.

As a society I think we are kind of all ‘ok’ with the sharing of the joyful times, hell, there’s even a ton of dedicated hashtags to the tiny moments and happy captures. Lovely.

And we are probably kind of ‘ok’ with sharing the mediocre, “my washing pile is bigger than yours” kinda sentiments. I see a lot of this on the old Instagram as well.

But are we ok with saying, out loud… “today I hate being a mum and I would rather do anything but this”? Obviously I don’t mean saying it to our actual kids , but to another mum? Are we ‘ok’ with that?

Probably not because I don’t know if I’ve ever read this online.

So I’m putting it out there instead.

Being a mum who sometimes questions her life choices and feels a pit of despair in her stomach when faced with a full day of toddlerdom, is all par for the course. It’s ok to feel it, it’s ok to say it and it’s ok to own that part of motherhood. Not everything is sweet, rose-gold tinted or glorious. In fact, most parts are anything but and it’s probably those little flashes of beauty and amazing, chubby-cheeked gorgeousness that get us through.

Needless to say, I never actually leave my kids (tempting though it might be) and I never tell my kids that today they are making me question my life choices. Instead? Well, it depends on how bad the day is but sometimes I just laugh because that’s all you can do, sometimes mean shouty mum comes out to play (and then the subsequent guilt) and sometimes I just lock myself in the bathroom to cry it out. A bit like the mum version of the naughty step y’know?

Anyway, I’m just popping it out there into the internet, to sit there in a rather unglamorous juxtaposition to the “what a wonderful life of peachiness and curly haired kids” – some days I don’t want to be a mum anymore. And for what it’s worth, I think that it’s a good thing to acknowledge all parts of motherhood, even the difficult ones.

Occasionally, we need to club together, hold our hands up, get real, admit defeat and move on with our day.

Motherhood is many after all isn’t it? But in amongst them, it’s often really quite difficult.

And that’s totally ok.

Here’s hoping to a better day tomorrow





  1. Julia
    March 26, 2018 / 12:42

    This post describes motherhood accurately, at least that is how I experienced it 6 times over! Pregnant with my 3rd child, thoroughly fed up, I left my 2 little boys aged 1& 1/2 & 3 & 1/2 happily watching TV with husband, one summer day, & stomped out of the house vowing never to return. I made it as far as the local park & sat, penniless, no transport, for a couple of hours, before crawling home, to find 2 little faces happily playing & husband saying, mildly curious, asking “where did you get to?” And that was the end of my bid for freedom!

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