What I need to hear when I don't measure up as a mum
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MummyBloggers
Saturday felt like one of those days where nothing I did for my children was enough and it was also one of those days when I questioned everything about motherhood:What was the point of it?
Here I am bending over backwards for these children and I’m still not measuring up - do they hate me?
How can I be getting it to so wrong?
It was a rare Saturday where I didn’t have a work deadline to meet, errands to run or an extracurricular activity to take the kids to, and as far as I was concerned, tedious household chores could wait. Today was all about me and my children.
The day got off to a rocky start, when I momentarily forgot Grace's aversion to raisin-based cereal and prepared her a bowl of museli and warm milk. I was rewarded with a tantrum that I would have been impressed by, had I not been so devastated - I couldn't even get breakfast right.
A little later, seeing Joshua and his older sister playing on the living room floor, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to join them in the rough and tumble. I crouched beside them and was promptly told to go away.
Feeling like a child who had been intentionally left out of a playground game, I meekly made my way out of the room. Horrified by how hurt I was, I told myself to pull it together.
The rest of the day staggered on in much the same way. I wasn’t wanted and when I was needed, I didn’t properly deliver.
Normally distracted by work responsibilities, laundry or a million other tasks I normally tend to, I just assume that all is OK between me and my two. But on this day, I had cleared the schedule and I couldn’t make a day with my kids work.
I started to question my relationship with my children. Had busying myself with all those other tasks masked the fact that I hadn’t properly established a significant bond with them?
Were they so used to seeing a hassled, tired mum rushing in and out of the house that they didn’t know how to react to a mum who was eager to play, excited to get involved and actually present?
I came to the conclusion that the whole day was my fault. How can I expect my children to adapt so quickly?
They’re used to playing with each other throughout the day because mum is usually tied up with other things. They’re used to be given the right cereal because mum is normally on supper-duty. What they're not used to is seeing a Mum almost on the verge of tears all afternoon.
My husband came home to find his kids watching Saturday afternoon TV in the living room and his wife staring blankly into the laundry basket in the kitchen.
Sensing I needed time out of the house, he silently handed me my trainers and I left the house to run off my upset.
On my return to the house, I heard further wails and felt my heart sink. 'I can't cope with this', I thought.
“Want Muuuuuuuum.”
It was all I needed to hear.
The day got off to a rocky start, when I momentarily forgot Grace's aversion to raisin-based cereal and prepared her a bowl of museli and warm milk. I was rewarded with a tantrum that I would have been impressed by, had I not been so devastated - I couldn't even get breakfast right.
A little later, seeing Joshua and his older sister playing on the living room floor, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to join them in the rough and tumble. I crouched beside them and was promptly told to go away.
Feeling like a child who had been intentionally left out of a playground game, I meekly made my way out of the room. Horrified by how hurt I was, I told myself to pull it together.
The rest of the day staggered on in much the same way. I wasn’t wanted and when I was needed, I didn’t properly deliver.
Normally distracted by work responsibilities, laundry or a million other tasks I normally tend to, I just assume that all is OK between me and my two. But on this day, I had cleared the schedule and I couldn’t make a day with my kids work.
I started to question my relationship with my children. Had busying myself with all those other tasks masked the fact that I hadn’t properly established a significant bond with them?
Were they so used to seeing a hassled, tired mum rushing in and out of the house that they didn’t know how to react to a mum who was eager to play, excited to get involved and actually present?
I came to the conclusion that the whole day was my fault. How can I expect my children to adapt so quickly?
They’re used to playing with each other throughout the day because mum is usually tied up with other things. They’re used to be given the right cereal because mum is normally on supper-duty. What they're not used to is seeing a Mum almost on the verge of tears all afternoon.
My husband came home to find his kids watching Saturday afternoon TV in the living room and his wife staring blankly into the laundry basket in the kitchen.
Sensing I needed time out of the house, he silently handed me my trainers and I left the house to run off my upset.
On my return to the house, I heard further wails and felt my heart sink. 'I can't cope with this', I thought.
“Want Muuuuuuuum.”
It was all I needed to hear.
