I have never known anything like it in my 8 years as a Mother.
The 8yo was a dream as a baby. Infact, if i could do it all again and I could choose the easy life then damn straight I would have 3 of him in one go. That doesn’t mean I love my other children any less, it just means that the old saying “They never tell you this in the books…” is currently replacing the welcome sign on my front door as a polite warning to anyone that dares step over the threshold.
If I could write a handbook…a genuine truthful handbook on parenting, I know it wouldn’t get published. Not because it was written by a clinically depressed mother hooked on G&T and still clinging to the dregs of her 20’s, but because it would be so bloody brutal that it would put any potential parent off for life. I would effectively kill the human race.
Ive just put The 3yo to bed. The 8yo went off on his own with the normal kiss and cuddle and The 14yo still has an hour to kill on Instagram so it meant I spent the next half hour reading stories and singing songs and wearing the skin off my hands whilst I rub her back. I dont know why it takes half hour…but its the routine she is used to. Anyways, what made me write this post today was as I was using my well practised Ninja skills to leave the room, I looked over to her and saw this…
This is probably the most beautiful picture a mother could ever witness. Her little shit of a toddler has somehow turned into this beautiful angel. So peaceful and calm. Pure innocence.
I felt the most intense surge of love for this girl and every bone in my body wanted to walk back over, pick her up and hold her tight…
Luckily I was born with a half decent brain and immediately left the room and I now have a fresh G&T in my hand.
Please dont get the title of this post wrong. I do genuinely and insanely love my children but from 6am every morning till 8pm every night all thoughts of love go out of my head.
The thing about parenting (and the thing they most certainly do not tell you in the books) is that actually sometimes we dont like our children. Its perfectly normal. Infact, if you come to tell me that you like your children every single minute of every single day then I would be very, very concerned. We are human after all. We all have our own emotions, thoughts, feelings and general needs.
Most days I feel like an over programmed robot. The Future Hubby reckons we are in our own version of Groundhog Day. Every day literally feels the same, and so in a sense it is completely impossible to feel the same emotions and feelings as the day before. That thought stretches to my kids aswell. I can’t like them everyday and sometimes in the stress of the every day routine I forget the love too.
The other day I got my first “I dont love you anymore Mummy…” from The 3yo. She was angry at me because I wouldnt let her have sweets at 8 in the morning. In her little toddler brain that was a justified reaction and to be fair to her she has no idea of the difference between like and love she was just clever enough to know that it might hurt me and then she would get sweets. HaHa!
Like I said above, its 6am till 8pm. Every. Single. Day. She’s even getting to the point where she skips a nap after lunch and that can be either a blessing because she will fall asleep quicker at bedtime or it will mean she is about unleash Hell for the next 5 hours because she is over tired. I have never known a child to be so demanding and on the go and it doesn’t look like she is gonna give up anytime soon.
So yes, the terrifying truth is that I only love her when she sleeps. But thats only because its the only time I am allowed to feel it. When the house is quiet and I can gather my thoughts and process the day. Yes, she acted like a spoilt brat and demanded everything. She screamed because we wouldn’t buy her a bright pink calculater which meant her World Domination plans were on hold for a few days. She stamped her foot so many times I thought she would wear a hole in the concrete (we were out for the day) and she shouted for all to hear “I NEVER GET MY OWN WAY!!” Which promted me to almost piss myself with laughter because if Motherhood has taught me anything its that I dont give a shit for tantrums in public. Nor do I care what people think when I blatantly ignore said child.
Im incredibly grateful for the time I get when the kids are in bed. It isn’t just an excuse to have a drink, binge on Netflix or crack open the good chocolate you’ve hidden from little eyes. For me, its a time when I can truly appreciate how much love I have for them and how my life would be so awful without them. And although I am off to go find another drink and then catch up on Netflix, Im also going to take another look at that picture of my angel again and remember that feeling of love she gave me.
In the morning it will be gone, and my Robot Mum mode will be activated.