Motherhood is life changing to say the least, we lose parts of ourselves, whilst gaining a whole host of other stuff. Some good, some great and some down right awful, but all definitely life changing and at times life affirming. Author Hayley Doyle get’s real about the mum juggle, the love juggle and staying true to herself in this refreshingly honest piece about the balance of mum vs you.

“Do the bins while I get the sick out of this,” I said to my husband.

Not one of our sexiest moments.

Although a common moment living in a household with a five year old and a two year old. 

“Oh, and take this…” I added, handing him a small nappy sack of poo. 

Once upon a time, I was his brand new girlfriend. I liked a vintage dress and styled my hair into a 60s bob. I never needed my arm twisting to travel or party. I was super chatty about my creative passion and he watched me turn it into a thriving business. He fell in love with me. Our relationship was built on holidays and at restaurants and lying in bed together all weekend. Now, a decade on, and I am a wife, a mum and a delegator. The latter now strongly defines our day-today relationship. 

Is this sad?

Is this a (long) phase?

Or is this a natural progression?

As a couple, we both wanted the next step; kids, mortgage, routine. We craved it. We were ready. Our lounging around hungover and bingeing boxsets did become boring, and we longed for a lifestyle shake up. The thought of babies stopped terrifying us and well, out came the ovulation sticks. After a miscarriage, we were thrilled to welcome a baby boy into our lives the following year, and our family was made complete by the arrival of his baby sister a little while later. We got exactly what we wished for; NO time to lounge around hungover, ever. Life is full-on. It certainly takes some time to get up to speed with how manic babies, toddlers and kids in general can be, and whenever I think we’ve caught up, that we’re on it, somehow, it all cranks up a notch or three. 

Yesterday, we spent gorgeous, quality family time outside in the spring sunshine, taking a leisurely walk along the river and enjoying lunch together… although our son climbed absolutely everything - everything - in sight and we had to take it in turns to carry our daughter who refused point blank to sit in the buggy. Bedtime was a chore, both kids fighting their intense tiredness, and by the time us grown-ups sat down with a cup of tea, we could barely get through an episode of Succession. We needed to hit the sack… and it’s here, at this point every evening when the juggle truly impacts our relationship.

You see, while my husband is able to brush his teeth, climb into bed and switch off, I switch on. I see the To-do List looming for the week ahead. I foresee the storm and want to avoid it, keeping our life flowing as smoothly as possible. I start with unloading the washing machine…

“Just do it in the morning…” my husband says.

The morning? Pah. He’s either wildly delusional or has the memory of a goldfish because tomorrow, between peeling soggy Weetabix off the table legs and coming up with 1076 new reasons to make both kids brush their teeth without a meltdown, distributing damp washing isn’t something I care to add into the mix. The fact is; it’s easy to get stuff done when the kids aren’t round, and it’s impossible to get stuff done when they are around. It’s a puzzle, working out when to fit this-that-and-the-other in, and I’m the one scrambling to find the pieces, before I ask for help to put it all together. My husband gets out of bed reluctantly and starts to hang tiny t-shirts on radiators. I put the dryer on and whip open my laptop “quickly”… By the time we get into bed, I’ve confirmed our daughter’s spot at baby ballet, rinsed the mugs, locked up, carefully placed one child back into bed after they’d slid onto the floor mid-slumber, and emailed myself a reminder of three things I need to do tomorrow before I start work.

“You okay?” He asks, sleepily.

“I think so…” I say, alert, mind racing. “Holiday camps need booking…”

Seriously, what did we talk about before we had kids??

“Remember when we used to play Chess?” I say, suddenly.

“Huh?” He’s half asleep.

But I’m thinking back to the days when we had so much time to kill… I mean, to enjoy one another’s company. It makes me laugh. I look at his face, the man I love so much, and struggle to imagine ever getting beyond a single pawn move. If we ever get the opportunity to go on a date night, we drink, we eat, we get sleepy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a treat. We relish every bite and reconnect with relief. But Chess? An actual activity? Us?!

Talking of date nights, the juggle of parenthood has definitely created a formula for how we talk to each other. The evening is comprised of three topics; the past, the present and the future. We’ll get to the restaurant and it might remind us of somewhere we once went, a long time ago, on holiday perhaps. We reminisce about that holiday, and then another trip, that rooftop bar, that lobster shack. Our happy memories become wishes for the future, and we start to daydream about taking the children to some of those places when they’re older. Definitely, when they’re older. Not now. Oh, not now. They’d be a nightmare on a road trip, on that coastal path, all those rocks… And we are - bang! - back in the present. We talk about the kids. We do love talking about the kids. Our kids. We discuss where they’re at, if they’re doing okay, really, and what they do that’s so sweet, despite how impossible they can be. Our now, is them. It’s no longer, us. It’s us and them.

When it comes to us though - just us - being the one who delegates means that I have become the stricter of the two, which makes me feel boring and a bit of a party-pooper. I long for my husband to catch a glimpse of the carefree soul I once was, going with the flow. If we happen to find ourselves in such a moment, it’s so short-lived, and usually followed by me asking him to change a nappy while I take the older one to the loo.

In truth, I love my life more nowadays, because I feel more rounded and complete. Those hazy hangover days are blissful in hindsight, but not so much in reality. The fights we endured were alcohol-fuelled and complex, foggy about our direction in life and what we wanted. The anger could linger, but on a more positive note, the make-up sessions were lengthy and passionate. Nowadays, our fights are about… yep, you guessed it; the never-ending list. Sometimes it’s more of a frustrating rant where we’re both on the same side - and exhausted - rather than bashing heads. We kiss and make-up with a quick hug, long before the argument has had a chance to spiral out of control. We have to be careful that the underlying problem doesn’t fester though, that what we wanted to say is out in the open, because brushing aside an argument isn’t the same as it being settled. 

Since becoming a mum, sure, I’m still the girl with the vintage dress, but I can’t cover up parts of myself I’d rather not reveal. Parenting is raw. Poo bags, vomit, leaking boobs and sleep deprivation are going to reveal your true colours. These days, I rarely get to show my partner the “me” he fell in love with because the mask is off. Long ago, this thought would have scared me. But that’s the thing with motherhood; your children become your ultimate priority, and you let go of the smaller stuff. Take me as I am! The kids come first!

About The Author

Hayley Doyle

Born in Liverpool in 1981, Hayley Doyle trained at the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, LIPA, and worked as an actress for more than a decade, including playing Ali in West End Show Mamma Mia! She then went on to live and work in Dubai, where she founded Hayley’s Comet: a children’s theatre company specialising in musical theatre, acting and playwriting. During her time in Dubai, she was also a regular talk-show host on Dubai Eye 103.8, the UAE’s no.1 English-speaking talk radio station. Hayley currently lives in London with her husband and their two children.

Twittter: @HayleyDWrites