confessions of a failure

mamma and maia both want the dummy! haha

Today, it is like I have been a spectator in my own life. As if the real me, has been stuck inside, behind a glass wall, and I am forced to watch this irritable, miserble, failing mother shout at my otherwise wonderful children. Its not fun, I’ll tell you that for free.

Blimmin’heck. I know I’m not the first, nor the last, to have days where I fall short on the sort of mother I want to be. I cant always live up to others expectations or my own for that matter. But then again, why should I live up to any at all? Expectations of how to behave, how to raise your children, what you must and must not do, by when, how etc etc etc….Why do I let it consume me? Why do we as a whole conform to these so called rules? Who made them? Society? Or is it ingrained in our very making, that we as human beings are by nature designed to conform?

Does it make us feel safe, knowing what we are expected to do? Because then, we can measure ourselves in term of how successful we are. We all like feeling like we are doing something right, if not brilliantly so. I cant imagine anyone ever setting out to be a mediocre parents. We all want to be the best.

It is easier to fault others than yourself. Ofcourse it is. Its not very pleasant to realise ones short comings and face them head on. Why would you even bother, ignorance is bliss?  If its a quirk of your personality that you get extremely irritable and moody after only a little sleep, no end of sleep training on your part will ever cure that. Your body copes with what it can, and when it cant cope, you cant cope. Something has to give. Which in my case, is my patience.

Yeah, ok, like 99.99% of everyone else then. But so what, it doesnt make it any easier, when the simple fact is I would rather not lose my temper, raise my voice or be this miserable cow that I am today. Knowing other people also get like it makes not one iota of difference because its now, sadly, a blight on this day which could otherwise have been very pleasant.

Tomorrow, I would like to wake up and be mamma. Mamma who likes to play, WANTS to play, and would win in the patience race with any so called saint. The mamma who makes everything into something fun, the mamma always smiling, brushing off any negative feelings with wave of an arm and not caring much for what others think or say. I’m not asking much eh!

But what I would like most of all, and not just for my own sakes, is that somehow my children will re-learn how and what sleep is, because it is not only mamma Wilson who gets grumpy with little and bad sleep. No no, the kids fall into that 99.99% too haha. Who’d have thought it! 😉

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