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16th September 2016
10:40am BST
1. Playrooms
Clean, functional playroom's that children actually play in. Do they actually exist outside of Instagram, Pinterest and the Ikea catalogue? When we lived in a house with no space for a playroom, I had genuine fantasies about one. A bright, colourful space where all the toys would live and I wouldn't have to fall over them, and tidy them away 17 times every day. Then we moved, and we had a playroom. And do you know what? It's just a room that children can't be in unsupervised because it's a mess, and potentially dangerous. It's always a mess. It's cleaned, and 23 minutes later it's a chaotic hell-hole again. What is even more amusing is, my children have no desire ever to play in there or even play with their toys at all. There was a two-hour argument over who could play with the empty toilet roll a few months ago.
On the odd occasion a child does go into the room, they will discard an apple core, and I will spend the following 6-8 weeks wondering what the smell is. I have given up on the playroom dream. Everytime I see a picture of one online I make a pffttt sound, the only good thing about the playroom is that the door can be closed, and I don't have to see it. It's just a symbol of crushed hopes and dreams.
2. Bathrooms
How come in movies and on TV, when unexpected guests call to a home where small children live, the parents don't go to check the bathrooms? There are many things I will miss when my children are grown up, hugs and hand-holding, and maybe even the noise. I won't miss walking into the bathroom and having to flush the toilet. That is what I do now. At least once a day. My children are clean, toilet trained, normal enough kids, yet there is a culprit or two who just cannot remember to flush. I go on about it constantly. A regular refrain here is who didn't flush the chain? and the kids all laugh and point and say flush the chain, what is a chain, mom is so old; mom is from the black and white days, and they laugh merrily, and still I have to keep flushing the toilet every time I walk into the bathroom, not laughing. There are zero toilet-related laughs from me.
3. Dinner
Why is this image always depicted of parents lovingly making the one dinner? One dinner, just the one, what is that about? Or recipes shared for a one pot family dinner everywhere? I cannot tell you the last time I made a meal that all of six of us ate. I don't think I ever have. Actually, there isn't even a breakfast cereal that all four of my children eat.
I have one picky eater. One who would burst into flames if handed them a plate full of things they couldn't identify. Another who thinks dinner is something I give her to look at before she gets to feed it to the dog, and one who will eat most things. They were all fed/weaned/parented the same way, so it is just who they are. To be fair, there are very few meals the husband and I would eat identically; there are many that need tweaking to suit individual tastes. You never see that, though, do you? You never see the parents making the three separate dinner options while simultaneously nuking spaghetti hoops and plea bargaining to pleeeease just try it. Or recipes that call for cutting of onion so much that it barely exists anymore – it's just tasteless onion dust, in the teeny sliver of hope that your child might digest three spoonfuls of this one-pot magical family dinner that cost 27 euro in ingredients, two hours in preparation, and doesn't come with the footnote * YOU KNOW YOU WILL BE MAKING CEREAL AND TOAST IN 45 MINUTES*
These are the current issues that hurt my mothering soul. There are many, many more. Advertisements for children's sun cream and no-tears shampoo deserve an honourable mention, and photographs of families in all-white attire.
Is it just me? Is everyone else living the family dinner, clean playroom, and clean toilet dream? I don't have answers or solutions and in fact, I may, at some point, even assist in perpetuating the myths because one day, my kids might eat the same nutritious meal, and if it happens, I will photograph every bite smugly and post it on Facebook. And if ever see a photograph of a clean bathroom with a load of happy face emoji's on Instagram, chances are it could be my account on a day where FINALLY my kids all can flush the toilet.
Deborah McCarthy is a mum-of-four, a procrastinator, a caffeine enthusiast, a picker-upper of things. She writes about being overdrawn, overtired, overemotional and overwhelmed on her hilarious blog, The ClotheslineExplore more on these topics:
