I am Mother Joyful. I adore my child and try to nurture him in a natural and wholesome way. This usually means going to extreme lengths to live a toxin free lifestyle and making sure that Mother Earth isn’t burdened with any of our rubbish. This in turn leads to loudly preaching a greener philosophy and in the process annoying a whole bunch of people, namely my family. They eventually do listen and tell me that I was right all along, and that is always satisfying. I also acknowledge that it’d be far less taxing to eat, wear and breathe plastic as opposed to any of the other alternatives available, after all healthier isn’t always easier.
If I said ‘I love to plant trees’, I’d be lying because I never have. And if I said ‘I love to swim in clear oceans’, that may invoke some images of an adventurous ecowarrior type figure, but again that wouldn’t be true since I’m terrified of little fish swimming between my toes. Nevertheless I still consider myself a tree hugging hippie super hero.
I like being Mother Joyful, but sometimes I am Mother Ambivalent and other times I am Mother Melancholy, as well as Mother Frustrated, Mother Angry, Mother Mental and Mother Down-Right-Fabulous. I am also Mother Honest, so I’ll tell you that I’ve always fancied myself as a Carrie Bradshaw (you know the columnist from Sex and the City) and it helps that I resemble her a little bit – a fact that i’ve never appreciated but if I can CAPITALIZE on it I certainly will. And since we’re being honest here I will also tell you that motherhood rocks, sucks, fulfills and crushes all at the same time. Oh, and I’m a Briton currently sailing through the Americas the beyond, hence spelling and references may be somewhat confused, as is my mutant accent.