Parenthood Pledge

Please raise three fingers and repeat after me...

To ensure my positive transition into parenthood I promise to undertake the following rituals...


I promise to take one pregnancy test, followed by another 472 in case the first one was lying to me.

I promise to make irrational demands on my husband for food unobtainable at four in the morning.

I promise to vomit during the most inconvenient moments, including when pulling onto the motorway, whilst in a lift and during a theatre performance.

I promise to do my pelvic floor exercises at least 50 percent less than the NCT lady says I should do them.

I promise to be more concerned about pooing myself during labour than actual labour. 

I promise to gross out those without children with in-depth details of losing my mucus plug.

I promise to cry. A LOT.

During Labour

I promise to swear at my husband at least once.

I promise to bite him also.

I promise to poo myself at least twice and not actually care that I am doing so. 

I promise to bring my children into the world whilst shouting unrepeatable profanities.

I promise to forever ridicule my husband if he passes out in the delivery room.

I promise to cry. A LOT.

 When baby is aged 0-1

I promise to stick cabbage leaves in my bra for at least a week and not even care that I smell a bit mouldy.

I promise to wear the biggest nappies known to man for at least a week also.

I promise to take 45628364639 photos of my baby in the first twenty-four hours and stick them all on social media. 

I promise to find everyone else's baby completely ugly whilst believing mine is the prettiest thing the world has ever seen. 

I promise to google 'baby poo what is normal' at least 15 times a day.

I promise to eat all the time.

I promise to hate my husband when he lies snoring beside me at 3 am and I haven't even slept for five minutes. 

I promise to look my most unattractive.

I promise to forget to put my boobs away when signing for a parcel.

I promise to hate the delivery man/postman/milkman every time they come down my street and wake my child.

I promise to spill food on my baby’s head.

I promise to be in competition with all other NCT mums about milestones.

I promise to allow my child to vomit on well dressed, totally unbroody, younger friends.

I promise to allow them to shit on said friends also.

I promise to allow my child at least one exploding poo in a fancy restaurant.

I promise to make it completely acceptable to talk about piles, constipation, vomit, unusual bleeding and mucus with my husband over dinner (even if he doesn't want to know).

I promise to hate all family members/neighbours/friends for a long time if they even start a sentence with 'well have you tried...' in reference to baby sleep.

I promise to fantasise about the days pre-children when I could lie in until 1pm. 

I promise to be opposed to dummies and then beg my child to take one after a month of no sleep. 

I promise to cry. A LOT.

The Toddler Years

I promise to love my toddler even when they forever have two fingers of snot running down their face.

I promise to ignore my child when they are screaming blue murder in the middle of the fruit and veg aisle.

I promise to book a babysitter on the night when my child ends up coming down with norovirus.

I promise to tell all my friends and family that my kids eat only healthy nutritious food but there will always be a pack of fish fingers in the freezer.

I promise to tell the child's mother that 'oh they have never bitten anyone before' when it happened at the same group last week.

I promise to let my kids eat off the floor because I just don't care anymore.

I promise to let my kids watch back to back Disney while I stare zombie like into space.

I promise to talk about sleep training but have absolutely no intention of seeing it through and simply smile and nod when friends talk of success after I spent a night with a nappy in my face.

I promise to update all my Facebook friends on all my toddler’s milestones including their bowel movements during potty training.

I promise to believe my child is better than yours.

I promise to cry. A LOT.

Pre School and Primary

I promise my fridge will be covered with nonsensical drawings which are meant to resemble unicorns.

I promise to film every single Nativity/choir/recorder performance and force extended family to view after Christmas dinner.

I promise to stop caring when I get vomited on and see it as just a part of everyday life.

I promise to try and not have an anxiety attack during kid’s parties or the school disco.

I promise to bombard social media with every 'first day and last day' of term photos as well as sports day, world book day, red nose day and disco attire photographs.

I promise to tell my child 'winning doesn't matter it's the taking part that counts' yet still yell like a banshee on sports day (and secretly be disappointed if they don't come first).

I promise to be proud the first time my child loses at Monopoly and throws the board across the room in rage.

I promise to act grown up when the first child picks on my children and discuss it reasonably with the parents of said child. I promise to then go home and bitch about their family for the rest of the evening. 

I promise to feel like a naughty school child on every parent's evening.

I promise to also get a fit of giggles alongside husband when the school services move to church, and the vicar says something only I could turn into an innuendo. 

I promise not to hate those that look amazing having just got out of bed on the early morning school run, but I will get up an hour earlier to try and refine a 'just got out of bed but I am still gorgeous' look with a tonne of makeup.

I promise to spend much more time in coffee shops.

I promise to suddenly become obsessed with eating organic and reducing plastic waste and telling my children that there are starving children that would kill for that meal.

I promise to turn into my mother.

I promise to cry. A LOT.


Signed...…………………………………..…………………………… (parent to be)