Some days as a stay at home mum are hard. Most people don't understand it, they think I should feel extremely blessed and honoured to be able to stay at home with my babies to watch them grow. Some of the time that is true, but the real honest truth - most of the time it isn't.
Some days, like today, are hard. But it seems like we can't complain about it, or else we are judged. Well, I'm complaining.
If I was at work and I had a shit day, I would be allowed to complain about it. I bet nobody would say oh, but you are so lucky to have a job to complain about. But it seems with children that you can't complain about how hard they are, because you are being ungrateful for what you have been given.
I challenge anyone to spend a day in my life and deal with the crap that is thrown at me all the time and not get a little frustrated.
And I say crap, because it is crap. I don't really care who judges me on my parenting any more, because I'm not going to make anyone happy with the way that I do it. Either I'm too hard or I'm too bloody soft, but fuck it, the kids are screwed up and I'm doing a fucked up job.
Things build up from the moment I open my eyes and the kids are either all whinging in my bed about who is their daddy (my daddy, no its MY daddy, NO ITS MY DADDY, fucking fantastic at 6am), or 10 minutes later about the colour of their sippy cup. Nobody wants to give in and just take a cup, everyone has a specific colour they want, and if its not available all hell breaks loose. All before 6.30am. This isn't just one child complaining - this is 3. No doubt it will be 4 when the baby develops a certain preference for colour.
Then you have the fighting, teasing, hitting - then the food wars. My most hated phrase at the moment? I'm hungry. I hear it all. fucking. day. Doesn't matter if they have just eaten, they'll come out while they are still eating and say they are hungry. Then they will take a piece of fruit, have a few bites, and then chuck it if they notice their sibling grabbing some other type of fruit that looks better than what they have.
So thats breakfast finished. So its about.. oooh.. 8am?
I think its ok to say that most days, I don't enjoy what I'm living at the moment. I'm trying to - I really am - but I don't want to be the screaming/yelling mum, and its so easy to revert back to that since thats all I have been around for most of my life. If you don't know different, its hard to see it in a different way.
We have our most hated times in the day - mine has to be the after school pick up. I hate it with all the four kids - I have Speedy refusing to get into the pram in the first place but I can't let her go free, last time I did that she ran across the road without looking because she was running away from me. So I have to fight to put her in there. I have to fight with Coo about her shoes, they are uncomfortable, her feet hurt, wait I need to pick a flower - all little things to get on my nerves while I'm rushing to Sparrow's classroom. Not her fault I know that, but this happens every single day. So I don't have a lot of patience to deal with it. Then once I have Sparrow, the girls run off and want to play on the equipment. Then its a fight to get Speedy back into the pram. Then a fight to get all kids into the car, nobody seems to like sitting in their car seat.
Some days - everything is hard. Everything is harder than it really should be. Everything is harder than I expected it to be, even the fucking garage door is screwing me over at the moment with its refusal to open most of the time with the remote. Today the car door decided to not open for me as well.
All these little things add up and of a night time I wonder what the hell I am doing, I must be doing something wrong or every one else is just exaggerating about how much they really enjoy their days at home with their kids.
Cos with a 5 year old, nearly 4 year old, 2.5 year old and 14 month old - it really sucks most days.
But thats right - I can't complain, I have to be grateful for what I have been given. I am grateful, I just wish at least ONE of my FOUR children would sleep through the night, go to bed on their own, or do what is asked the first ten times I ask......