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I can't please everyone and you might disagree with something I've said so share your view - just don't be a dick about it.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Feeling Guilty

I wonder how I look to my children?

I know how I look to me. And too often, I really don't like it.  I wish I could be like a Buddha, calm and knowing, not just pot-bellied.

When they look at me what do they see?  Do they see an impatient, angry, tired, frustrated, bored middle aged woman, or do they just see Mummy. 

Even when I'm feeling all of the above, they still come to me for a cuddle.  They just see their Mummy.  I'm not 'Me' in their eyes.  I am theirs.  Their Mummy.

I'm feeling that weird, isolated feeling you get when you've been cooped up in the house after a bout of illness. 

Both myself and S have been ill and now, two weeks later, both my kids are poorly.  Son - High temperature, snotty, shivery, flu.  Daughter - High temperature, snotty, vomiting and shivery. 

As any parent will know, we are only allowed to be ill when it suits our childrens moods.  When they wish to make you a 'get well' card, or bring you something from the fridge to 'make you better', you are allowed to be ill.  When, which is 90% of the time, they want food, snacks, something, anything, a partner to play Connect 4, a book reader, something else on the televison, a nose blower, a bottom wiper, a drink maker, a spilt drink wiper upper, a referee between them and their argumentative sibling...or a cuddle, then it is no longer acceptable for you to be ill.  This gets to me sometimes.  I tell myself they have no concept, or worry about how their demands are effecting me.  I talk myself down from getting angry.  I take a paracetamol and try to sit quietly with another cold cup of tea while they watch their programme, loudly.  I am feeling very sorry for myself.

I pride myself on being a very good Mum.  I'm creative, funny and so S told me the other day after watching me chatting to our new guinea pigs, 'loving'.  So, it's days like this, when I have temporarily had enough and have shouted at my unwell offspring and feel guilty and heavy, that I question how I must come across to them, my babies.  So feeling bad for not being calm, patient Earth Mother, I decided to ask them....

Me to my five year old son;

When you look at me, how do you feel?

Er, happy?



What, always?


Then I asked my three year old daughter the same question;

When you look at Mummy, how do you feel?

Erm, sick.

Oh look, nowhere for Mummy to sit!
 And just like that, my temporary down mood evaporates and I remember that it's alright to just be me and be grumpy, moody, cross and shouty.....   because to them, I am still just their Mummy and they'll cuddle me when they want to, regardless of how fearsome, prickly and horrible I think I'm being.


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