When I found out I was pregnant, once the shock had passed, I knew exactly what was to come. Of course being pregnant wouldn't be easy and labour might be a bit shite, but once that was over with it would be plain sailing. I have 3 brothers younger then me and had helped out a lot when they were small, I knew how to change a nappy and feed a baby and dress a baby. I would spend my days looking lovingly at my precious bundle, proudly pushing her down the road for walks in the sunshine, pointing out the birds and other things we would come across. When she napped I would frantically search Pinterest for fun and fabulous things to do with my baby, and jot them all down excitedly. I would take her to baby groups all the time and chat with all the other mum's about how wonderful she is and we would arrange coffee dates, as she slept in my arms or happily kicked about on the floor. Granted night's would be a bit pants if she didn't sleep, but that would be ok. She would be worth it. That's what everyone else says, so why should I feel any different?
Since having my daughter I have developed a slight obsession with blogs, particularly mummy blogs. Not the kind that are full of 'here is what you should be doing with your child' stuff, nor the ones that gloss over the crap times and are full of posts of ''perfect'' parenting and children. No, I am particularly fond of the ones that are honest about bringing up a child, that tell it like it is, warts and all. Of course there are wonderful times when your child does something fabulous and life is great. But in the times when life wasn't so great and I was in fact struggling to adjust to life as a mum, it was these blogs that helped me and made me realise I am not alone.