Parenting: The Relentless Art of Looking Forward to Bedtime

Wishing Away the Madness While Clinging to the Moments

It’ll be better when they’re both at the same school.
It’ll be better when she can actually communicate like a human instead of a tiny, furious badger.
It’ll be better when we’re out of nappies, and we are no longer stuck in an endless loop of asking a toddler if she’s gone for a poop, only for her to scream 'NO!' without a second’s hesitation.

I live in the future. Constantly. And it’s ruining me.

People say, Enjoy them now! It goes by so fast! Take all the pictures and soak it all in! And I try. I really do. But not all moments are joy-filled, and honestly, some of them are just mind-numbingly dull. Like, if you’ve ever tried to reason with a toddler about why they cannot eat Sudocrem, you know what I mean.

Of course, there are many amazing moments… like when my youngest giggled herself breathless or, just last week, when she looked up at her dad with the sweetest expression and said, “Bless you, Daddy!” after he sneezed. Heart-melting stuff. But there are also the days where she’s teething and inconsolable, and my six-year-old is losing his mind over a sock that suddenly feels weird, and I’ve reheated my dinner three times and am yet to take a bite.

It’s hard to stay present when the future promises things like:

• Not spending +£1,000 a month on childcare (because, apparently, childcare in this country costs the same as a holiday, except instead of white sand beaches, I get an empty bank account and a permanent headache).

• Not spending two hours a day doing the school/nursery drop-off.

• Not having to wipe another human’s bum on the regular.

This morning, my elderly neighbour stopped me - literally rushed over as if she had a critical message from The Universe! She grabbed my arm. “Enjoy them,” she said, deadly serious, like I was about to throw them into the road. And I do. I do enjoy them. But I also enjoy other things, like being able to have a drink in peace, going to work and feeling like an actual competent person, or remembering what it’s like to exist without a child attached to my leg. And I’ve decided that’s okay. Because me enjoying those things actually makes me a better mum.

But how do I stop living in the future? How do I stop willing it to be easier when I know - based on real-world experience - that a six-year-old is objectively easier than a two-year-old? I’m so aware that I’m wishing my life away, but sometimes, the present is exhausting, and the future has these shiny little promises of relief.

So, in case you also feel like this (which you probably do, unless you’re some kind of Zen master parent who genuinely enjoys being screamed at because you cut toast the wrong way), here’s my plan:

1. Take more actual deep breaths. Like the kind they recommend in yoga, but instead of using them to find inner peace, I’ll use them to stop myself from selling my children on Vinted after a long day.

2. Force myself to write down/record the ridiculous things they do. Because even though today’s tantrum over a slightly folded page in a picture book feels like hell, I know I’ll forget about it and someday think, “Awww, remember when they were tiny and irrational?”

3. Stop thinking ‘It’ll be better when…’ and start thinking ‘It’ll be different when…’ Because it might be easier in some ways, but I also know that in ten years, I’ll be crying into my wine about how they don’t need me as much anymore.

So, yeah. No magic solution. Just an attempt to exist in the funny, slightly soul-destroying now.