When I was a little girl I had a doll I dragged around with me. When I helped with the washing, my baby would come with me and lie quietly on the grass next to me having tummy time – because I was a dutiful make believe parent, who understood the importance of making sure my doll didn’t get a flat head. It was easy; I loved hanging out with my baby and doing the washing. When the time came for parenting – I was going to be ready, it was going to be simple, and I was going to love it. Every minute of it.

I was so very wrong.

“Once upon a time, I was the perfect parent. Then I had children. The end. (quote by Motherhood and more.)

I deeply love my children, all four of them. They make me laugh, they make my heart full and make me feel like I have achieved greatness in the short seven and a half years I have been a mother.

But nobody told me how hard it would be. Sometimes the journey itself to falling pregnant is hard. Pregnancy itself is certainly hard enough. The birth is hard.

Before we even become a parent we have these expectations of how we will be. We will have a wonderful water birth, with no drugs and then exclusively breast-feed this beautiful child who has routine from day dot.

Even if we are a little more realistic about it, I am not sure we are ever prepared for what is coming our way.

You have this little person, and you are the whole world to them.

When you are alone with your child for the first time, there is this overwhelming responsibility that kicks in. You have to keep this little being alive.

I was ready for parenting; I was ready for the social coffee dates, and swimming lessons. The multitude of playgroups, mother’s groups and play dates I would be a part of. We were going to have quite the life. She would of course have ample tummy time whilst I joyfully hung the washing out on the line.

Well no one told me. She didn’t like to sleep; she liked to feed every hour on the hour. My boobs hurt. I was lonely. My hormones were horrendous. My house was a mess. My body had changed. The tiredness you experience as a parent is nothing you can be prepared for.

Being a mum while it is so gratifying is honestly the hardest thing I have ever done. I have four children so people constantly surround me, yet I have never felt so lonely.

I find that I am a walking talking Play School episode; everything and I mean anything can be turned into a song.

My fourth child hardly had any tummy time, because my third child would take the babies clothes off if she ever got the chance.

I love my children, all four of them, but I am fairly sure my fourth is going to have a flat head.

When you have four children if one gets sick it can be straight up near a month before the household is germ free. There is nothing more exciting about staying at home with children who are miserable.

Those coffee dates I had planned became too hard to even imagine. The thought of taking a two year old to a public place became too overwhelming.

My washing is endless; there is nothing joyful about hanging it out.

I never thought that I would be the mum that calls her husband with tears running down her face, because I just cant handle and I want my mum.

There is no such thing as a perfect parent.

Somedays we need to remind ourselves that we are doing the best that we can, if today doesn’t go to plan then we try again tomorrow. Be kind to yourself. Let your children make you laugh, go and visit your mum if you need to.

This parenting gig is hard work, but nothing worth having ever comes easy.