Last week we had one of ‘those’ mornings. You know the ones?
Whatever breakfast you offer is rejected. School uniforms take approximately 5 months to put on. The small one remembers she needed to hand in work today. The teens meanwhile are showing zero signs of life despite needing to leave in 30 minutes. Then JUST as you’re about to walk out of the door the teens start shoving letters in your face than need signing RIGHT NOW!
THAT kind of a morning.
Unfortunately THAT kind of a morning brings out the worst version of mum me that there is.
I’m snappy mum, I’m horrible tone of voice mum, I’m tuts and sighs and rolls her eyes mum. Impatient and grumpy and irritable and I don’t like her much at all.
So here’s where the mum guilt con is strong. This monstrous morning led to, having finally left the house to take small girl to school, sitting at the bus stop cuddling her tight and me apologising to her for being snappy. Explaining I just needed to hurry her along a bit as we’d have been late for school otherwise but I shouldn’t have used my irritated tone of voice. Mum guilt also bought her pacifying warm pain au chocolate en route to school to sweeten her up so she didn’t go into school upset with me.
Now here’s where the mum guilt con hits it’s target perfectly.
You see. .. .
It wasn’t me who rejected a selection of breakfast items because the obscure item I’d decided I must have wasn’t available.
It wasn’t me who refused to open her eyes because it was still dark outside.
It wasn’t me crying because my bed was too cosy to leave.
It wasn’t me who, despite having some sucker willing to help get her dressed, chose to lie without moving in a one girl protest about the ‘wrong’ tights.
It wasn’t me who used the time set aside for washing and teeth brushing to instead draw getting felt tip covered fingers.
It certainly wasn’t me who screamed the word torture as I had my hair brushed!
Me? I’d been pretty reasonable. Got up, made breakfast, didn’t ask for any assistance getting dressed or brushing my teeth. Woke small girl with a kiss then attempted to gently cajole her out of bed.
Yet here I was apologising and feeling terrible and guilty about my lack of patience. Promising myself I’d do better in the future. Annoyed with myself I’d been grumpy.
I’m telling you. Mum guilt. It’s one big con.
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Mummy Times Two