I’m a stay at home Mum. I don’t have a 9-5 job like a lot of people, I don’t go out in the mornings and come home in the evenings.
My job is supposedly getting up in the mornings, getting breakfasts for the kids, getting their bags packed and the older kids off to school then keeping the little ones amused all day until the older ones come home. Then it’s getting tea organised, bathing kids and settling them in for the night.
Add a lot of games, laughter, smiles, book reading, messy play, cooking, etc…
That’s not how I work though.
If that’s what a Mum does, I’m an absolute failure, an utter disgrace to the human race.
I find it easy to wake up in the mornings, but it’s getting out of bed that I find hard. Some mornings, I am actually scared of getting out of bed.
Scared of what my children have to accuse me of, scared of stepping on someone’s toes from making the wrong lunches, using the wrong bread, putting the wrong pieces of fruit into the lunch boxes, scared about getting all the breakfasts ready and then having people complain it wasn’t what they wanted or were promised from someone else the night before.
Because of all that morning crap, I feel it is easier if I don’t exist in the mornings until the kids have gone to school.
In an ideal world I would be respected, loved, appreciated.
People would realise that I put time and love into what I do, no matter how big or small it is.
I would be able to have fun with my kids without worrying about what others think of me.
I would be able to finger paint, play with play-dough, make mud pies and splash in muddy puddles with the kids.
In an ideal world the kids would enjoy being around me, they would enjoy doing things with me.
In an ideal world, I wouldn’t have to worry about what my kids are saying to extended family about me.
Sometimes I think it would be easier to cease existing. To disappear into thin air. Let my hubby and his family raise our children without me as I believe they (the kids & in-laws) think I am not worthy of being their mum, of sharing the same surname that they have.
This may not be what is actually the case, but it is what the voice in my head tells me every second of every minute of every hour of every day, week, month and year…
It cuts deep inside and my self esteem continues to plummet into depths I didn’t know were imaginable. Deeper than I have ever experienced before.
I shouldn’t be like this. I am a MUM, I should be the Matriarch of my little family, working side by side with my hubby, raising our kids the best way we know how.
We will never be “perfect”- I don’t believe anyone ever is perfect, but I do know that we are all capable of doing our best.
Unfortunately for me, these days doing my best is actually getting out of bed, giving the little ones a hug sometime throughout the day, watching some TV with them and attempting to help my eldest children with their homework until they decide to tell me off for not giving them the answers to the questions asked in their homework books. (I’m one of those “bad” Mums who rewords the questions in a way which will make my kids think differently about the question, approach it in a different way and hopefully work out the answer for themselves rather than just saying “here- this is the answer…”)