“When my daughter was born, I thought: now I understand why people are sometimes so lyrical about being motherhood. She slept well, drank well, grew well, laughed a lot. She was our cheerful princess, of whom we really enjoyed the icing on the cake of our relationship.
“When will the second come?”
But when she became three, the Babymaffia began to stir. Girlfriends, (in -laws) mothers and colleagues who suddenly started asking: “And … when is the second coming?” As if you have a kind of stamp card and only get a diploma as a parent after two stamps.
Anyway, my husband also seemed cozy, “because then she always has a playmate.” Overconfource as I was, I thought: oh well, with this one it worked out well, so with a second it might be even more fun. Well … I got up nicely on that.
From the moment our son was born, I knew: this will be a different story. He cried non-stop. And then not softly murmur and thinning, but the kind of howling where your neighbors wonder if they should call youth care.
He slept little, spit back waves of milk and had a kind of sixth sense for the moment I just wanted to go up with my feet.
Roar
Our daughter had first been enthusiastic about the idea of a little brother, but that changed quickly once he was there. She couldn’t do anything with this little howler monkey. Moreover, he not only woke us up, but also her. That did not benefit her little mood.
From a cheerful princess she turned into a mini-dramaqueen. My dear girl decided to fight this ‘annoying intruder’. So she started blowing hard on her birthday horn when he cried or hitting her toy jar. And his hug ended up remarkably often ‘by accident’ in the litter box.
‘My friend’s ugly clothing ended up’ by accident ‘in a textile bin’
With all those hormones that also screamed through my body, I could not handle this new life at all. Our house was a battlefield of toys and food scraps. When hubby was left and he had to go to work again, I dragged myself through the day.
I made sure that the children had food and drinks and were clean. I thought that was a lot. I often sat on his return home in my dressing gown with headphones on a corner of the couch.
No more nice dresses
Fortunately my mother now jumps up every week and our son is crying a lot less since he gets the bottle. But still, sometimes I dream about what it was like when I went to the playground with one smiling child and without ramparts under my eyes, without having to take half a move to diapers, wipes and bottles. The time that I pulled nice dresses out of the cupboard instead of the least sour-smelling T-shirt.
People always say: “You get so much in return.” Beats. I had a chronic sleep deprivation, a first child who turned into a refined bully and a second child who test my patience daily. What do you mean pink cloud?
You can do this if your child suffers from poop anxiety: ‘Don’t push’
There are really more and more small moments of mother happiness. But sometimes, if after a bad day I pour up dog tired again on the couch, I think: if only I would have left it with us one princess. ”
This story is based on true stories.
More wife
This article is in the new Vrouw Magazine (every Saturday at De Telegraaf). As a premium member you can also read it online (sometimes before). Do you not want to miss anything about a woman? Especially for the most loyal readers, we send an email every day with all our daily highlights. Subscribe here. Furthermore, you can of course follow us closely on Tap,, ” Facebook and Instagram.