First time mum/referee/ sleeve snot wiper to a wild toddler. Designated household bum changer. Blogging about this motherhood malarkey from a refreshingly honest and unfiltered perspective.

Bad Mum

"Am I a bad Mum?"

I find I am asking myself this more times than not. A question that nags in the back of my mind, like an itch that doesn't go away.
I think, as parents, we truly are our own worst enemy.  It is so easy to constantly put ourselves down, to fret that we aren't doing things right, to question if we're capable, to doubt. We are always criticizing our own ability to be a good mum, or the loving spouse when really, we're doing the bloody best we can.

Always fearing of being judged or feeling the need to justify every little thing we do,
"I don't usually drink this much, really I don't. It's just my first night off in a while."
"He doesn't always get a McDonald's. I like to cook everything from scratch, it's just a treat honest."
So bloody what if you admit defeat and settle your kid with a happy meal because they won't stop moaning, you've had a long day and it's the easiest solution to appease them. Whose business is it if you enjoy a wine with dinner or enjoy a bottle, heck two, when you have a baby free occasion? Go for it! Being parents doesn't mean we stop being who we were before, or that sometimes, we really just can't be arsed.

I pondered if the choice to end my relationship made me a bad mother. A decision that didn't solely affect me but also, my son, and would continue to do so over the years to come. I can't quite put into words the stress, anxiety and terror one small choice had and has over me.

And that is why, at times, I am riddled with a guilt that doesn't budge, worry my decision was an act of nothing but pure selfishness. What damn right did I have to make such a choice, to long for another, to dare dream of something more, when it was not just myself to consider, when it was not just me it would implicate.

I don't think I took my own contentment into consideration because what did it matter really? The only thing I should be focusing on was my son, his life, his own well being. He was happy, he was thriving and he was healthy and, therefore, I could, should, be satisfied in that comfort alone.

We deserve to be happy - we owe ourselves that much, and we need to, at times, make selfish choices. However, I think if that doesn't directly include our child's happiness then it is not even considered an option. They come first and to think otherwise, feels utterly wrong. Or that's at least how I saw it.

But I am also now only realizing that we need to be true to ourselves. We can't stay in the one place because it's convenient, or because it's all that is familiar in a life where everything constantly changes.

That a child needs a parent, who is happy, in the right state of mind and capable of being the best they can. That it's better a child has two parents apart, friendly, amicable at the least opposed to those, loveless, together, growing bitter over the years which is much more likely to impact on a child. I didn't want my son to have those parents that endlessly quarrel, that scorn the other behind their back in front of him. That can't even manage to be in the same room as one another. I couldn't, wouldn't have that for my son.

And I know I want to be some sort of role model to my child. To take the advice I offer, not just give. To be the person I aspire him to grow to be - honest, loyal and strong. To make him proud.

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