The Mama Perspective | Motherhood and Maternal Wellbeing

A space for real stories, shared experiences and modern motherhood

  • Changing the Narrative and Raising Emotionally Safe Children

    Everything I went through as a child feeds into my adult life today – who I am as a person, as a mum, as an employee, as a friend. The list goes on. Our childhood doesn’t stay in childhood. It comes with us, quietly shaping how we respond to stress, how we handle conflict, how we love, and how we parent. And if I’m honest, I wish children’s mental health had been taken more seriously back then.

    There was a time when big emotions were brushed off. When sensitive children were told they were dramatic. When needing reassurance was seen as being clingy. When a child struggling to adjust was labelled “spoiled” or “naughty” instead of a little overwhelmed or tired.

    Now, as a parent, I see it so differently.

    Today, if my child is struggling with a change, I don’t see it as bad behaviour. I see it as a little nervous system trying to find its footing. If my child needs a minute to come around instead of being shouted at, that isn’t weakness. That’s growth. That’s emotional safety. That’s learning how to regulate instead of repress.

    Don’t get me wrong – I am not a perfect parent. There are days when I lose my patience. Days when everything boils over at once. The noise, the mess, the endless questions, the mental load – it builds. And sometimes my tone isn’t what it should be.

    But here’s something I’ve learned – repair matters more than perfection. If I snap, I apologise.

    “I’m sorry” is only two words. It isn’t difficult to say. But to a child, it’s powerful. It shows them that adults make mistakes too. It shows them that love isn’t withdrawn when things go wrong. It teaches them accountability. That’s something many of us didn’t grow up with.

    Twice this week, someone has told me, “Your son is a credit to you.” And they’re right – but not for the reasons people might assume.

    I get so lost in the tougher moments that I forget to zoom out. I focus on the meltdowns, the resistance, the tiredness, the days that feel long. But when someone reflects back the bigger picture, it brings me back to what I know deep down. And that’s about my eldest boy in particularly right now, who makes progress every day. His politeness shines. He is kind. He is thoughtful. He is a happy, friendly person. It’s okay that he can be a little sensitive too – I am too.

    A sensitive little soul – just like me.

    For a long time, I thought sensitivity was something to grow out of. Something to toughen up against. But now I see it as a strength. Sensitivity is empathy. It’s emotional intelligence. It’s noticing when someone else is hurting. It’s caring deeply but as I’ve gotten older I question if I care too much for things I don’t have the mental capacity for.

    When we take children’s mental health seriously, we aren’t “raising soft kids.” We are raising emotionally aware little humans. We are breaking cycles of silence, especially that it can’t be talked about. We are teaching our children that feelings aren’t flaws – they are signals.

    The world will eventually teach our children resilience. It will test them, stretch them, challenge them. Home doesn’t need to be another battleground. Home can be the safe place where feelings are named, validated, and worked through.

    Everything I went through as a child shaped me. And everything I choose to do differently now is shaping them.


    If you are the parent who apologises… If you are the parent who pauses instead of shouts (even if not every time)… If you are the parent who worries about doing better… You are already changing the narrative. And that matters more than you know.

  • Rediscovering Myself in Motherhood

    I’m a mum of two now. My body has changed again. My patience is worn thin on some days. And on others, I’m less kind to myself, especially in my own head. I replay sentences that tell me I should be doing better, being better. I show up. I love my kids fiercely. But shouldn’t I be kinder to myself too, if I want them to grow up loving themselves?

    I tell my son, always, to be himself no matter what. I tell him to ignore the noise – the nasty comments, the negativity – and to chase happiness where he can. I remind him that some days will be hard, that feeling upset or frustrated is okay, that those emotions don’t mean he’s failing. Funny how easily those words come to me for him, and how much harder they are to offer myself.

    As a mum, I no longer stand for pleasing others. I have a husband I love deeply, and two little boys I adore more than anything. The life I’m living right now is everything I ever dreamed of even if it’s tougher than I imagined at times. On the hard days, my husband reminds me, “We’re a unit. We get through things together.” And he’s right. We always do.

    When it comes to my appearance, I barely have the energy to make an effort most days. Some days are a little better than others. And on rare occasions, I even feel a bit confident again, maybe even girly. The other night was one of those nights. I went to see The Bodyguard in Manchester. I loveee Whitney so I was glad I got the chance to watch the show.

    Still, in the back of my mind, at times like that, I can’t help but hope the kids will be calm-ish and go to sleep as they should. I always feel a little guilty for not being there, just in case they need me especially my youngest, who’s used to me right by his side at bedtime. But they’ll be more than okay with their daddy. They always are.

    Soon, I’ll be going back to work, and I’m a mixture of emotions. Part of me is really looking forward to it, to reconnecting with the working mum in me, the ambitious woman who’s worked hard to build her career. I miss that version of myself. 

    But another part of me wonders if I can return and simply pick up where I left off. Can I still meet expectations? Can I juggle the demands of my job and motherhood without burning out? What if I don’t enjoy it the same way as before? What if I’ve lost that part of me somewhere along the way?

    Maybe rediscovering myself doesn’t mean going back to who I was. 

    Maybe it means learning how all these versions of me can exist together – mum, wife, woman – messy, not perfect, but still enough. 


    Are you a mama too? How are you rediscovering yourself in motherhood? 

  • I Wish I Could Be the Calm Mum

    I wish I could be the calm mum – the one who doesn’t lose her patience more than once a day. The one who seems endlessly steady, softly spoken, and unfazed by the chaos of motherhood.

    All I ever hear about is gentle parenting. And while I understand the intention behind it, if I’m being honest, I think I need to be more gentle with myself first. But how do you even begin to do that?

    How do you look after your children, try to be on time for appointments, school runs, and life in general – while also being expected to look presentable, put together, and emotionally regulated? And now, on top of it all, I’m worrying about returning to work in the next couple of months.

    Wow. It’s just a horrible circle, spinning around in my head all day long. Please tell me I’m not the only one.

    When I’m running on empty

    I honestly don’t always have the motivation to meet my kids’ needs while also being told I should feel good about myself. I don’t even know the last time I truly felt that way.

    Motherhood asks so much of us – physically, emotionally, mentally – yet somehow we’re meant to pour from a cup that never seems to get refilled. We’re told to slow down, soak it all in, and enjoy every moment… but no one really talks about how hard it is to do that when you’re exhausted and overwhelmed.

    A second maternity leave that’s felt a little different

    My second maternity leave has been okay-ish some days – I’ll be honest about that. There have been moments of happiness and calm. But there have also been some really hard days. And if I’m truthful, large parts of this maternity leave have felt this way more often than not. You know why? Support. Or rather, the lack of it. I’m not talking about the occasional message checking in – because to be fair, there have been a handful of people who’ve done that. I’m talking about real effort. About showing up. About wanting to see my kids, care for them, and treat them the way other children are treated. That would be the dream, maybe.

    But I’m tired of fighting for things to happen. Tired of hoping people will change. Tired of bending myself to meet expectations and rules that constantly shift – rules that sometimes feel like excuses, like people simply can’t be bothered.

    Maybe I’m wrong. But that’s how it feels. And feeling like you’re not worth someone’s time – especially when it’s so easy for them to bail – hurts more than people realise.

    Choosing peace over people-pleasing 

    So here’s where I’m at. When it comes to my kids, I will not force anyone to be in their lives. And I will not force myself to include them just to make other people’s lives easier or more convenient. I’m done being the people-pleaser. Done being the “Oh, she won’t mind” person.

    For my kids and for myself – I’m setting boundaries. Not to be funny towards anyone, but to protect my mental health. And yes, it’s tough. Especially when the very people who question your boundaries are the same ones defending their lack of involvement.

    But I’m not paranoid. I’m not “just emotional”. I’m a human being – and I know exactly what’s happening. I’ll always see it as other people missing out. And that’s just it. You won’t convince me otherwise.

    Sometimes you just can’t win 

    Oh and those very same people are often the ones who say you’re either too soft or too harsh on your kids. Sometimes, you just can’t win.

    But then again… what if winning isn’t about their approval at all? What if winning is making life happier and healthier for me and my boys. Maybe that’s the only version of winning that really matters.

    Tell me I’m not alone 

    Have you ever felt this way? Like you’re carrying more than your fair share? Like you’re constantly questioning whether you’re doing enough while feeling like your head might explode? 

    What did you do to overcome those feelings, for you and your family? 

    If nothing else, I hope this reminds you that you’re not alone. And that being a good mum doesn’t mean being calm all the time – sometimes it just means showing up, even on the hardest days. 

  • We Have a Routine and We Still Don’t Have It All Together

    We have a routine in our house. A familiar flow to our days. And yet… some days still feel hard. Occasionally, the baby is unsettled no matter what I do. Some nights my eldest suddenly struggles with bedtime, even though we’ve done the same thing a hundred times before. And in those moments, it’s easy to feel like the routine should be working better – like I’m doing something wrong because things aren’t going smoothly.

    But motherhood has taught me this –
    having a routine doesn’t mean having it all together.

    Why routine matters to me

    I genuinely believe in routine. Not in a strict, clock-watching way but in a gentle, grounding way. Routine helps my children know what to expect. It gives our days a rhythm. It brings a sense of safety, especially during busy or emotional seasons like Christmas just gone before the return to school, and welcoming a new baby brother into the world. And if I’m honest, it helps me too. It removes some of the mental load, the constant decision-making, the “what’s next?” feeling that can be so exhausting as a mum.

    Routine isn’t about control. For me, it’s about comfort.

    When the routine feels like it’s falling apart

    The thing is, kids aren’t robots. Babies don’t care what time it is. They don’t read the calendar or the mental notes inside your head. Sometimes they’re just upset and they need comfort more than consistency.

    Older children go through phases too. Separation anxiety, big feelings, growing independence, and oh the overstimulation. One night bedtime is easy, the next it feels impossible. And suddenly, the routine that usually works just… doesn’t. And that doesn’t mean the routine is bad. It means your kids are human.

    The pressure to “Have it all together”

    There’s so much pressure on mums to be consistent, calm, organised, and emotionally available at all times. To create the perfect routine and stick to it no matter what, to be the good mum.

    And when it doesn’t work? We blame ourselves. We wonder if we’re being too soft or the opposite, not firm enough. Or doing something wrong because bedtime is hard again. But a disrupted routine doesn’t mean an unstable home. And a tough evening doesn’t mean you’re failing. Kids have big emotions and parents do too.

    What motherhood is teaching me

    I’m learning that routine is a guide but some nights call for flexibility. Some nights need extra cuddles. Some nights don’t go to plan at all. And as hard as it can be when all you want to do is sleep, that’s okay.

    My children don’t need perfection. They need love and comfort. They need to feel safe, seen, and supported even when the routine bends a little. Tomorrow is always another chance to try again.

    Can you relate?

    If bedtime feels difficult tonight as you’re trying to get the kids to sleep, if you’re ending the day feeling tired, touched out, or overwhelmed… You don’t have to get it right every night to be a good mum.

    We can believe in routine and give ourselves grace. Both can exist at the same time. And maybe that’s what having it “together” really looks like.

  • My First Christmas as a Mum of Two

    Wow, my first Christmas as a mum of two has been magical, but it’s also been hard. The lead up is pretty draining, making sure everything is done, with support from their daddy of course. But still, I wish for a couple of quiet moments in the day. I long for the kids’ bedtime so I can then go to sleep – mostly when my youngest goes, I go too, to be honest.

    I’ve been lucky to be on maternity leave and not have to worry about returning to work just yet, although it is actually a bit of a worry in my mind. I suppose that’s normal though. Motherhood has a way of holding excitement and worry at the same time.

    Now, the house is cleared of rubbish – all the wrapping paper, boxes, and plastic packaging gone. And I do love a fresh house, even if it’s for two minutes before the chaos of toys and noise continues. All of the new toys and clothes have “a home,” as I like to call it, and there isn’t a present that my boys don’t love. They’re grateful, and we are too as their mum and dad, but the most important thing for us is presence over presents.

    What was special about this Christmas?

    It was Jack’s first Christmas, and he turned 7 months old on Christmas Day. It’s also the first year that Freddy has shown a clear understanding of Christmas – the countdown for Santa coming with his reindeers, delivering presents, leaving a carrot, cookie, and milk out! Then to ask on Christmas morning, “Why didn’t Rudolph finish all of the carrot?!” You realise how much you really need to learn and answer for when you have a kid in the “why” stage, don’t you?

    Freddy’s excitement was the best part for me – and also the fact that he got his baby brother involved, even if he did want to open Jack’s presents as well as his own. The love between my two boys has grown stronger, and for that, my heart couldn’t be fuller. We’re seven months into this family-of-four life, and we didn’t get the picture-perfect moments early on, but over Christmas we’ve taken a few and they’re ones I’ll remember forever.

    What a year it’s been

    This year has also been a year of growth for me. A year of learning to say no when I don’t want to say yes, instead of doing it just to please someone. Becoming a mum has done that to me – especially becoming a mum of two – and in the best way. I’m learning to protect my energy, my time, and my presence, because that’s what my boys need most.

    This Christmas was loud and tiring but real and full of love. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.