I recently saw a meme on FB of Mary Poppins on the carousel with Michael and Jane with the words “What I thought parenting would be like”, then I looked at my own children… It seems I’m not alone in this illusion that we were brainwashed by Disney before starting a family as the post had 1000s of likes. But where did it all go wrong? Parenting is absolutely NOTHING like I thought and yet if everyone feels this way why hasn’t humankind given up already?!

The fact that I’ve even used the word ‘meme’ surprises me but not as much as saying I have four boys, the eldest is 11 and the youngest has just turned 3. How did that happen? How has 11 years passed? I still feel 16 but I’m stuck in a 30-something’s body! When they are all home we spend our time dancing in the kitchen to Raining Tacos and Space Unicorns (ask Alexa), arguing over how much tech they’re allowed, why “everyone else” has this and that and how they’re “the only one” in the class not to have one, trying to shelter the 3 year old from the disgusting habits of his 3 older brothers and catching them all snuggled and cuddled up watching Paw Patrol to keep him happy. You honestly have to have a split personality to cope. 

It’s a very strange existence and life is definitely at a faster pace than when we were at primary school (watching Philip Schofield in the broom cupboard and Doris Day films with your granny). Yet for all the clubs and classes there is always time for craziness. And in our house we seem to thrive on crazy and keep adding to it! Christmas saw the arrival of a hamster – supposedly for the 7 year old but the cats seem most excited; it’s like they’ve been given an X-Box to watch all day. That exhausts them so much they then sleep for the rest of the day...

And things happen in our house that are continuously ridiculous and yet seem to be shrugged off as normal: the online grocery shop arrived (you can imagine the amount for 4 growing boys who all enjoy their food). Everyone helps bring the bags to the kitchen and then disappear back to their various distractions except the youngest who decides to help me unpack. Trying to climb over a million bags with such little legs can only end one way…luckily the crunching of packaging breaking as his bottom hit the floor was only the grapes and the mince and somehow the eggs survived! You can do nothing but laugh and yet things breaking, bunnies escaping, husbands driving off with your keys when a child has a hearing test, bikes being forgotten at the start of bikeability week (the clue really was in the name), having no idea that nursery applications have completely changed this year, are all in a day’s work for a parent. (That was a particularly stressful day I might add.)

So, here’s to all the parents who thought it was going to be an all-singing, all-dancing affair and ending up hiding in the larder alternating between scoffing lumps of chocolate and downing glasses of pinot grigio just to survive arsenic hour. We all stand (or sway) together.

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