There are countless times when I questioned myself. There are countless times when I felt like screaming. There are countless times when I screamed, cried, threw things, shouted, pulled my hair out, wished for a different life. There are countless times when I wanted to turn back time. Then there are countless times that I slapped myself for thinking that way, and for not being present and mindful of my life as it was then.
I am a bad mother. I work 5 days per week.
I am a bad mother. My children are in creche 5 days a week.
I am a bad mother. I looked at my phone for too long and missed a milestone.
I am a bad mother. I let my 8 year old son make breakfast for his sisters the other the day.
I am a bad mother. I wish for bedtime most days during the week.
I am a bad mother. I hate the thoughts of trying to come up with another dinner that they won’t eat.
I am a bad mother. I dread the thoughts of another swimming lesson and what tears will show on that day or who will scream the loudest, probably me.
I am a bad mother. I stopped breastfeeding when they were less than a week old.
I am a bad mother. I shouted at my kids today, and yesterday.
I am a bad mother. My 2 year old screamed that I wouldn’t buy her chocolate.
I am a bad mother. I shouted at my children when I was having a bad day.
I love my children so much that words cannot describe it. I would die for them. God helps anyone that hurts them. They are my world and I am theirs. They love me unconditionally. Society will pick at you for being a bad mother at every turn. Once your children are happy, fed and feel love, that’s all that matters.
I am a great mother. And so are you.
Reality Mammy xxx