Mom Posts The Brutal Truth About Motherhood on Facebook


Motherhood

Motherhood as advertisements, TV dramas, and romance novels will tell you, is one of the sweetest things that can ever happen to a woman. However, real Life begs to differ.

(No, seriously. We don’t blame you moms if you feel the deep-seated urge to down some wine during your down-time.)

Take this Facebook post, for example. Brace yourself, folks, it’s as real as it gets.

https://www.facebook.com/storm.ellyatt/posts/10156954080395307

Storm Manea-Elyatt writes:

“It feels like a sick joke you never quite understood until this moment All those cute bonds ads, miniature Nike shoes, adorable baby shower gifts, baby spam on instagram, squad dates with your mum posse and those god damn laceylaners lied to me. Not once did I see an ad with a mum locked in her cupboard crying in her leaked stained pjs from 3 days ago, covered in sweat and vomit, praying to every god imaginable for the strength and patience to go back to the shitshow that is now their life. The once calm, poised, patient goddess, who could sling [sic] cocktials, swear with sailors and dance uninhibited until tomorrow afternoon, can bearly hold a conversation, hold her eyes open or the tears back from this new found “bliss.”

And then, the Truth hits you. and that’s the real T.

tired-mom“And the irony, oh the irony that everyone hates it at one point or another but you have to remember that hating it out loud is a kick in the face to everyone that would give everything for a moment of “hating it.” So you post the photo, you cliché the fuck out of your status because your hashtag loving it hashtag mumlife hashtag soblessed and when people ask you, you say with all the vigour of 2 hrs sleep ‘its honestly the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me,’ and when there’s no cameras, no people and no [sic] judgement you let out the loudest FUUUCKKK YOOOOUUUU known to man, although it’s under your breathe, or screamed into a pillow, or yelled from the [sic] foetal position of your cupboard because your little ones finally asleep. So we somehow pick our shattered self off the floor, trying to piece together a resemblance of a person and do it all again.”

We feel you, Mom. We feel you.

“Cheers all you amazing parents that dust yourselves off and do it again, with the smile of a thousand curse words, shattered souls and hopefully a strong coffee or wine in hand. Your my people x o x.”

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Jonette

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