A JOURNAL ENTRY

The Never-Ending Story Of A Mother’s Guilt

Why does it plague me so much?

Today was a bad day. A very bad day.

From the moment my two children woke up in the morning — they were grumpy, short-tempered and generally acting like a-holes. I can totally say that. I am their mum.

They wouldn’t eat their breakfast or get dressed. They wouldn’t brush their teeth or wash their faces. They fought with each other, they fought with me. Every little thing was a battle. EVERY. LITTLE. THING.

There was constant nagging and whining and generally crappy behaviour from all of us.

I was exhausted and grumpy myself, and this crappy start to the day pushed me over the edge. I lost my temper. I yelled and threatened and bribed until they were dressed, reasonably presentable and their bags were packed.

I couldn’t wait to drop them off at school and childcare and have a few moments of peace and quiet all alone.

I finally got them out the door and dropped them off. I went to my favourite coffee shop and ordered the largest coffee to enjoy in my quiet house.

I was so happy and relieved to drop them off. But then I walked through the front door to our silent home and it hit me.

A Mother's guilt.

How dare I feel happy when they were so upset when I dropped them off.

How dare I want a few moments in peace and quiet to enjoy a hot coffee from my favourite cafe.

How dare I not want to be around my children all the time. How dare I have yelled and threatened and bribed my children.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

I stood in the doorway and took a deep breath. I would not let this guilt get the best of me. I would beat it this time. It is true, that I am a mum. But I am also so much more than that. I don’t have to have kids hanging off me all the time to be a good mum. In fact, I am a better parent when I have had a break from them.

And then I really looked at the house.

The aftermath of the bad morning was still there. The breakfast dishes were still on the table. Pyjamas were thrown on the floor. Beds unmade. Toothpaste all over the bathroom sink. I could feel my anger rising again. I could feel this awful sense of guilt and shame….How come I cannot be one of those put-together mums who have the clean house, the perfectly behaved children and never raises their voice. Do those perfect parents even exist?

I felt guilty for not being patient enough, for raising my voice and being grumpy. I felt guilty for not being the perfect mum.

So what did I do?

I turned my back on it all and sat in the sun to enjoy my coffee. Guilt-free…..for a while.

Tomorrow is another day. Who knows, maybe there will be no arguments, the house will be clean and I won’t have to raise my voice. Maybe this constant sense of guilt will leave me alone tomorrow. Maybe.

Tomorrow is another day.