Having promised myself that I will be a better Mummy today (which I do every day) it often goes very wrong for no discernible reason. I do wish I was more patient, more zen, more loving and kind and better able to deal with:
- just after waving bye to Daddy a pot of yoghurt hitting the floor and a water cup hitting me in quick succession
- wrestling to get the boy to put some shoes on, to get him in the car and to get his car seat harness done up
- my boy dribbling all his drinking water over his clothes for no reason other than he finds it amusing - four outfit changes later we can leave the house
- assuring him that yes he can go in the "buggy, buggy, buggy" to go to the post box, only for him to screech like a banshee when I try to actually put him in it
- watching him tear around playgroup like he's had sugar coated crack cocaine for breakfast while I wander round holding a mug of tea observing the Mummy cliques and trying to decide if there is seat that isn't 'reserved' for anyone where I can still see him before he runs over any small children with a Tiny Tikes car
Of course I love my son. I already feel bereft when I think about him growing up and leaving home to have his own life. I am not wishing away these golden years when he is forming his personality and testing boundaries. I just hope that I can learn to be a better parent so his memories of this time aren't relived in therapy and mine aren't of hiding in the garage listening to Radio 4.