Do you have parenting bad days? There are definitely good days and bad days on the front line of parenting.
Those fantastic moments where the Toddler flings his arms around my neck squealing with delight
I love you Mummy
Where the Baby looks at me and just beams from ear to ear. Giggling away infectiously.
The good moments, even if they do sometimes feel like they are few and far between, are the ones that stick in our memory. The ones that we recount to friends. To family. The ones that are documented in smiling photos and touching Facebook statuses. And as Alex says so eloquently in her post “The Truth About Blogs” who wants to document the bad moments?
But what about those bad moments? Those days where you want to crawl back under the covers. The days where you feel like you’re a terrible mother. The days where it feels like there is tantrum after tantrum and not all of them are coming from the children.
Those moments and days where you feel alone. Like it is ONLY you feeling like that.
The days where I shout, even though I know it does us no favours. I know shouting just adds to the chaos. But it makes me feel better for a tiny millisecond before the guilt sets in.
The days where the Toddler has a screaming tantrum over which shoes he does or doesn’t want to wear, where I’m dealing with it through gritted teeth.
The days where he wants and needs my attention more than I have left in me to give.
The days where he is so tired, yet he doesn’t sleep. Or if he naps then he runs rings round me all night.
The days where the Baby spends the day having micro naps, his eyes red ringed from being so tired yet he still doesn’t want to sleep no matter what I try.
The days where the Baby screams if I so much think about laying him down.
The days where the Baby is clinging to my hip like my shadow and the Toddler is taking the opportunity of my attention being away to do things he is not allowed to do. Like draw on the wall. Or put all the toilet roll down the toilet.
The days where my head is banging and I long for adult conversation.
The days after the nights that seem to last forever. Where I have had no sleep. And they haven’t either.
The days where I try to rush through the day, to survive the day, to get through to bedtime so I can be alone. And then feel guilty about rushing through the little moments.
The days where I can’t summon up the energy to do crafts, make rainbow spaghetti or cook with them.
The days where the TV reigns as it gives me a break.
The days I spend an extra 5 minutes in the toilet just to gather my thoughts.
The days where sometimes I just feel like I’m not being the best mum.
The days that aren’t even days but just fragments of each day. Moments that happen.
Those are the moments that I don’t want to record down forever. Yet those are the days that do happen to me. That happen to everyone I know. We are not alone in the bad moments but those bad moments don’t have to define us. Those bad moments can be just that, moments. Forgotten moments in time. Fleeting memories that I know happened but are now fuzzy round the edges.
The moments that are crystal clear are the happy moments. Finding out the Toddler was a boy. Taking him for walks in his pram, being captivated by tree branches. Giggles at our wedding. Food smeared faces on honeymoon. Him stroking my bump while I was pregnant. Kissing my tummy. Talking to the baby. The baby arriving, finding out he was a boy, introducing him to the Toddler. Kisses. Cuddles. Watching the Toddler do something to make the baby laugh.
And those are the moments and days that I choose to remember.
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