Why does modern motherhood feel so hard?
"For the sake of our own sanity, we need to stop gaslighting ourselves about it." I once spent a month keeping a dead praying mantis in a shoebox as a pet for my five-year-old son. Wed all pretend to feed it and play with it, and we even constructed a playground so it could get plenty of exercise. At one point I had to glue it back together when its brittle carcass split in half. For that month, the dead praying mantis was part of our family. Every mum has a dead praying mantis story. We think nothing of trekking to the ends of the earth to protect the innocent hearts of our children. But for every tender dead bug moment there are moments of guilt, desperation and the relentless pressure to always be doing more. Sign up to our Kidspot newsletter for more stories like this. Kate and her children. Source: supplied. RELATED: The truth is motherhood is hard  Because it is  And for the sake of our own sanity, we need to stop gaslighting ourselves about it. The pervasiveness of technology, our advanced understanding of child development, greater awareness of mental health, a sharper focus on inclusion, our volatile relationship with social media Its all created distinct challenges for raising happy, healthy children. I think its helpful for the mums who are currently in the thick of parenting to recognise we're facing obstacles that our Boomer parents didnt. The last 10 years have brought extraordinary changes to the difficult and rewarding work of parenting, says Laura Clark, editorial director of Mom.com. Sure, with each new era come challenges that uniquely impact being a mum: war, the women's rights movement, the invention of the television. But as a member of the Oregon Trail micro-generation  sandwiched between the cynicism of Gen X and the optimism of Millennials  its very on-brand for me to claim that its harder to be a mum now than ever before in history. Here are the primary reasons modern-day mumming is significantly more difficult:  Mums are older  Women are becoming mothers much later in life, and despite what biology tells us, I think its a beautiful thing to unapologetically do you before having children. I had my first child eight years later than my mum had me. She moved directly from her parents home into her home with my dad, whereas I spent my twenties earning my degrees, establishing a career, traveling the world and relocating multiple times. When I got married and planted roots in my thirties, the transition to motherhood was jarring. Modern mums have a wider jump between seasons of life, and were slower and more tired while were doing it. RELATED: The gruelling reality of motherhood  Kate with her kids. Source: supplied. RELATED: Truth: Motherhood is lonely  We cant stop sharenting  We all want to feel confident in our choices as mothers. Its a strong part of our identity, and as humans, we care what others think of us. Yet we habitually set ourselves up for criticism with every milestone photo and video we share with our social networks. I caught myself literally deleting a photo of my son eating ice cream in the car for fear of the persecution I might receive if the car seat straps werent properly placed. These online forums can be a great source of support, connection and information, but theyre a slippery slope that can be harmful to our self-worth. No one is holding my feet to the fire, but [shares adorable photo captioned #boymum] I wonder if motherhood would be a better experience for me if I didnt know about clean sunscreens, the benefits of exclusively breastfeeding or the Pinterest-perfect birthday parties. Then I could just focus on fiercely loving my kids. Our village looks different  Speaking of parent communities, I was told there would be a village... I love the notion that its the responsibility of the entire community to wrap its arms around the next generation. But the ways people outside the nuclear family interact with our kids looks a lot different than it did when our parents were growing up. In 1960s suburbia, all the neighbourhood mums knew one another and everyone elses children. You could trust that when your child left the house, everyone from the corner butcher to Jimmys mummy down the block would look after them. The days when kids could pedal away on their bikes in the morning and return when the streetlights came on have been replaced with fears of abduction, sports and activities and more transient neighbourhood residents. Because Im an older mum, I inadvertently spent my pre-mum days making decisions that have made a traditional village less accessible. For instance, I relocated several times until landing in a trendy urban neighbourhood dotted with beautiful city parks and busy six-way intersections. As a result, my neighbours are a mix of families, college kids and random renters; my family and friends are sprinkled across multiple states, and my kids cant leave the house without adult supervision due to traffic and crime. I love my village, but its less hands-on than the village that raised me. Theres more economic anxiety  Every generation wants their children to have more than they had, whether that means wealth, opportunity, options, inclusion or all of the above. But for the first time in recent history, its as likely as not that our kids will be less prosperous than us. Stagnant wages, a broken healthcare system, and the personal cost of education have created a parent rat race. Were aggressively thrusting our kids toward our vision of success to cope with our own economic angst. My boys are just starting their education journey, and Im already overwhelmed. The popular opinion suggests that its my job as a mum to forcibly secure my kids future, and the stakes are high if I screw it up. I'm already overwhelmed trying to help them with school work. Source: iStock. We set ourselves up for failure  I recently learnt that the word parent wasnt used as a verb until the 1970s when parenting books became all the rage. From there sprouted helicopter, lawnmower, tiger, attachment and free-range styles, indicating theres a right and wrong way to do things. And now in 2021, the previously mentioned factors  mums are older, the perils of social media, a more remote village, economic anxiety  have been the perfect storm for the prevailing trend called intensive parenting: child-centred, time-intensive, financially indulgent parenting thats basically impossible to achieve without feeling like youre running on a hamster wheel. My point here is not to vent or complain but to recognise and adjust. I had children to bring more meaning and purpose to my life. I knew it would be hard, but I didn't anticipate how external forces and seemingly unrelated life choices could have such a profound impact on my experience as a mum. When I start to question whether I'm doing enough for my kids, I get back to basics:  My kids feel safe and loved  Quality time apart is just as important as quality time together  Spending time outside can be just as valuable as spending money on lessons, sports and activities  Inclusion is a better quality to nurture than competition; itll make them more successful adults and its less labour-intensive for me  Nothing in life is guaranteed  Being a martyr will not make my kids lives better  The only prize for best mum is enjoying the journey  To all the mums out there, Ill be bold and say that if you ever question whether youre a good mum, youre a GREAT mum. Were all riddled with self-doubt and the sense that it could all just fall apart, so find comfort  and maybe some vindication  knowing there are real reasons modern motherhood feels so hard. Dont miss out on enjoying yourself along the way. Kate is a lifelong storyteller, fuelled by coffee, survived by wine. A Midwest boy mum, she's raising two of the sweetest little hoodlums  Aidan (5yo, neurotypical) and Rhys (4yo, autistic)  with her brilliant and annoyingly patient husband, Imran. This post originally appeared on Kate's blog, Just Pour, and has been republished here with permission. You can also follow Kate on Facebook or Instagram.