Expectation vs Reality – Becoming a family

We all have this image in our heads growing up about our perfect little families. Well I did anyway and for me the expectation was I would grow up, get married and obviously have identical twin girls. My husband would work hard and constantly buy me flowers and surprise me with romantic gestures. I fully blame fairy tales for giving me these huge expectations and falsely so.

The reality is I have 5 children, 1 failed marriage. A partner who loves me and I love him but romantic gestures only ever appear when hes in trouble. Instead of cosy nights snuggled in front of the fire we sit on our phones. Anyway this got me thinking about other expectations compared to reality when becoming a family. So here are MY own expectations and then the reality. I am sure some of you will be able to relate.

Having a baby


So my expectation was that I would be married, stop taking birth control and instantly become pregnant with twins.. Obviously they would beautiful little girls. Pretty plaited hair, bows. Pink and Girly. Then that would be it, Job done and I would be a mother.


The reality couldn’t be much further than the truth if it tried. I was married that part was true. However my beautiful twins turned into a bouncing baby boy! , I did get a daughter the following year but she is about as girly as Sylvester Stallone. You can read all about¬†my journey to become a mummy¬†and just how difficult it was compared to the expectation in my blog.

Family Fun Time


My expectation was that I would decide to take them out. They would all spring out of bed. Get dressed with smiles on their faces, put their shoes on and skip out the door. Jump excitedly in the car and sing songs on the journey. We would get there take loads of lovely pictures. Everyone would excitedly show each other different things. The older ones would hold hand with the younger ones. The girls would have pretty dresses and frilly socks picking daisies, The boys would be in their gorgeous shorts and t-shirts kicking around a football. I would be arm in arm with my partner just watching and admiring our beautiful happy , contented family.


The reality is, we will plan a day out a couple of weeks ahead. The day will arrive and we will wake up with someone poorly or unable to go for some reason. If we are able to go then we will drag the kids out of bed amongst some grumbles and moans. They will slump down the stairs and moan for breakfast. They will be asked to get dressed where there are cries of I don’t own any clothes, I can’t find anything. The girls will come down in some sort of jeans and top combination. The boys will appear in clothes that just don’t match at all.

We will all go to head out the door when the toddler will decide its a great time to run halfway down the street at the same time as the baby decides that will be the perfect time to do the biggest, smelliest poop explosion ever. She will cover everything in her path in her beautiful scent so we will have to wait and get her cleaned up.

Whilst we clean her up we will notice none of the girls have even brushed their hair and the boys are wearing odd socks. We book taxis or get on a train ( We haven’t had a car in almost 2 years despite having a full licence). Then they continuously ask how long it will be. The get bored within 5 minutes. They have no intentions of singing anything at all.

We try to take a nice family picture but there is always one of us missing. The toddler is picking his nose, the baby is either crying or asleep. The older children find it impossible to take a photo without pulling faces at each other so we settle for whatever we can get. Instead of being arm in arm Gareth will be trying to catch Freddie or calm down a tantrum whilst I stop the older ones from arguing.



The expectation was that every day I would stand in the kitchen preparing healthy fresh food. All of us would sit at the table and chat about our days. All of the plates would be empty and everyone would be clean, happy and full. They would ask before leaving the table. Wash their plates afterwards and clean up any mess. Dinner would be at 5pm sharp no excuses.


In reality one of 2 things will happen. We will decide we can’t be bothered to stand and cook so order some form or takeaway or I will stand and cook 3 different meals because you can guarantee somebody won’t like whats being made. Dinnertime also queues the urgent need for trips to the toilet. The toddler will wear most of his, the baby will throw hers on the floor. The middle daughter will moan about how she doesn’t like anything even if its her favourite food and constantly try to come up with excuses to leave the table and the bigger ones will eat theirs.

When asked about their days all of a sudden everyone will develop memory loss and can’t remember what they have done. The plates are left alongside most of the food that has been smeared into the table and I will spend the majority of the time shouting “eat your dinner!” Myself and Gareth will have to either stand or sit on the floor as we only have 4 seats and half the time ours has gone cold due to dealing with the kids. Quite often it will hit 6pm and we realise we haven’t even thought about food.


These were just a few examples of what I expected compared to what actually happens. However when writing about it I realised that I would take the reality any day. After all how boring would things be if they were constantly perfect and I didn’t have any challenges to face?

*The images were taken from Google

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