Constant failure

In theory, I subscribe to the “There is no such thing as the Perfect Parent” ideology. The one that makes me feel better when I shout at the kids. The one that comforts me when I lazily put Peppa Pig in front of the kids while they wait for me to cook dinner (see photo evidence of my utter parenting failure). The one that unites fellow mummy bloggers. The one that I usually believe… But…

I didn’t really realise how much of a control freak/perfectionist I was until I had kids and discovered very quickly that when it comes to parenting, it’s impossible to maintain control. Be it control of my willful children, or control of my own emotions. One minute, I’m crying because I feel so overwhelmed with love. The next I’m screaming at the twins because they’ve done something REALLY annoying (or dangerous). Then I’m crying again, but this time because I feel so desperately guilty about shouting at them when all they were doing was discovering the world around them, demonstrating the curiosity of toddlers that is unsurpassed by any other age. The thing that can so often make me laugh! So I go through this emotionally exhausting cycle of tears-anger-guilt-laughter throughout the day and feel utterly drained by the end of it.

As we climb towards bedtime, I find myself itching for it to be 7 o’clock, so I can have some time to myself. And then the kids are in bed and I miss them, feeling guilty for wishing them asleep. I reflect upon the day and sometimes, all I can remember is how they did my head in all day, and how desperate I am to have a break. Sometimes I reflect in shame, remembering that moment I screamed at them, and their innocent little faces looked up at me in wonder, not even upset but just curious; “Why is mommy shouting at me?”

I hate that I do this but I have an image in my head of the Perfect Parent. The Perfect Parent isn’t the yummy mummy who keeps her life in order, but it’s certainly a mother who doesn’t lose her temper with her kids over something trivial.

My children are my life. I couldn’t face life without them. And yet there are times when I could bloody kill them!

Those moments where I lose it make me feel like a complete failure. I’m the grown up, and should therefore be showing my girls what is and is not acceptable behaviour. I know what kind of mama I want to be but for me, I think it’s unobtainable. And so I feel like a constant failure

Ok. Maybe not constant. Maybe there are times when I am supremely patient. When I indulge the girls’ natural curiosity. When I play with them. Cuddle them. Meet their needs. Teach them. Love them.

Maybe having a mama that gets it right more than she gets it wrong will have to be enough.

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Life changes…

I’ve always loved poetry but never really had an outlet for it. Then I started blogging and quickly discovered the wonderful Rhyming With Wine and something inside me said (very meekly), “I could do that…” Lack of confidence held me back, until I found myself commenting on one of her brilliantly funny poems, and guess what? She replied saying she loved my poem. High five! Cut a long story short and I found myself agreeing to feature in her Cheers! series and here is the poem I submitted:

Life Changes

Oh, how life changes
In just 15 years
In with Prosecco
Out with the beers

In with homecooking
Out with kebabs
Whilst swaying home drunk
(No money for cabs)

In with the Mom Shoes
Out with the heels
Sod what they look like;
I just care how it feels

Out with posh lunches
In with soft play
I got told off for going
Sock-free there today!

Rebellion used to mean
Sex, drugs and booze
Now it means sneaking in
A quick little snooze

I used to dance on tables
And party through the night
Now by 10pm (at most)
You’ll find me tucked up tight!

It used to feel like torture
To get up at half past seven
Lie-ins now mean anything
Past six is simply heaven

The most important thing back then
Quite simply put, was ME
Now what I need, or want or like
Is simply not priority

Motherhood means sacrifice;
My daughters’ needs come first
Sometimes my love for them
Makes me feel my heart could burst

But sometimes all the clambering and
Crying gets too much
I want to run away somewhere
And simply not be touched!

An hour or two is all I ask!
Just once a week or less!
A time where I’m not clearing up
Everyone else’s mess!

Out with my youth
In with cuddles and Bing!
My life may be less free now
But I wouldn’t change a thing

Rhyming with Wine

Thank you SO much Dawn for bringing me out of my poetry shell!