Susie O’Brien: Instagram images of motherhood are nothing like real life of mums
MODERN mums on Instagram may seem to lead whimsical, magical lives but most real new mums suffer through months of sleep deprivation, writes Susie O’Brien.
Susie O'Brien
Don't miss out on the headlines from Susie O'Brien. Followed categories will be added to My News.
THIS is what modern motherhood has come to.
Here we have a naked woman holding a 15-week-old baby standing in a showy concrete bath posing for a social media selfie.
Where’s the dignity? Where’s the clothes? Where’s the bath water?
FASHION SENSE OUT OF STEP WITH STYLE
QUOTAS NEED TO GIVE WOMEN A FAIR GO
Some say such images are an ode to self-love and body acceptance, but there’s nothing natural about it.
I’ll bet the photo posted by former Big Brother contestant Krystal Hipwell (nee Forscutt), involved a make-up and hair session, a two-hour photo shoot, hundreds of practice shots and lots of filters.
It doesn’t make her a bad mum, but it does make her self-absorbed and a bit silly.
These days, the measure of motherly success seems to depend on a woman’s ability to look, not just gorgeous, but smokin’ hot throughout pregnancy and post-birth.
While most real new mums suffer through months of sleep deprivation with vomit on their shoulder and grease in their hair, these “modern mums” are perfect 24/7.
She will film her husband’s reaction to their pregnancy announcement, then post an endless array of soft-porn pregnancy snaps doing yoga poses on the beach with an older child cradling her belly.
She will then name the new bub via a contest on Instagram, livestream the birth and then use her newborn twins as barbells.
These modern mums seem to lead whimsical, magical lives thanks to the #endlesslove from their offspring who all seem to be called Thelma, Narkita and Caspar.
They share travel tips, assuring us mere mortals that first class is “worth it alone for the cashmere PJs” and spend a ridiculous amount of time barely dressed in picturesque tropical locations.
The sun is always shining and the kids are always cute and don’t seem to refuse to pose in spotless outfits for take after take. They seem willing to spend their Saturday afternoons making heart shapes with their hands against the sunset and posing against picturesque painted walls in inner-city laneways. Good luck trying to get my kids doing this.
It’s a world foreign to most of us: a land of white couches, mum-and-kid matching clothing and ice-cream cones that always go with the child’s outfit.
The only time my kids’ clothes match their food is when they spill what they’re eating down their tops.
Most challenging of all to me are the mums, who are #beyondblessed to have perfect, devoted husbands and beautiful, healthy kids.
These modern mums aren’t actually your friends although they try to make it seem that way.
In reality, most are shameless self-promoters who will advertise just about anything in exchange for a freebie.
Making matters worse, they always seem to be exercise addicts who are always squeezing in a gym session before dawn (#metime). The only exercise I do these days is running up my credit-card bill, jumping the gun and throwing tantrums.
They post pithy little sayings such as: “Your greatest contribution to the universe may not be something you do, but someone you raise.”
Well, my greatest contribution to the universe is raising kids who aren’t d---heads. This is because they don’t have a mother who’s socially insecure and who makes them spend their spare time posing with kale and avocado cupcakes that match their $500 T-shirts.
As a mother, I don’t care about “retaining my sensuality” and “finding my femininity”.
I care more about retaining my sanity and finding my daughter’s mouthguard that cost me $80.
There’s nothing Insta-worthy about my life. My kids only listen to me when I don’t want them to and we’re on holidays so they’ll probably have pizza for breakfast and burgers for tea. And I’ve got a rental car that smells like the lunch box I left in my son’s school bag all through last summer’s holiday.
I’ve got a lot on my plate — but that’s only because I’m writing this at a Surfers Paradise all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet.
Forget about the perfect mummy bloggers and their try-hard lives and rock-hard abs.
If they really were as happy and secure as they make out to be, they’d remember to wear clothes and run the bath before they step into it.
Susie O’Brien is a Herald Sun columnist
AFL locker room lechery reveals lack of respect
The sight of Richmond ruckman Mabior Chol being groped by his teammates was schoolboy locker room lechery. It was also pathetic, weird and we deserve better from our AFL players, writes Susie O’Brien.
Box office classics fail to capture iPhone generation
Movie night seems like the perfect way to get ourselves through stage four. But trying to introduce the iPhone generation to much-loved classics from the ‘80s has been a massive flop, writes Susie O’Brien.