Just to be clear, I am far from perfect. We usually get to school ‘just’ on time, it often gets to 5 o’clock and I wonder what on earth we will have for dinner and I’ve been known to pass my own crafts off as my children’s they are so poorly made.
Before I had children I wanted to be the perfect mother. I had an image in my head that I would cook, play games and read books all day long, my patience would be everlasting. In reality of course being perfect is impossible and what is perfect? Is perfect an immaculate house and smartly dressed children, or children running around covered in paint and chocolate or is perfect just everyone being happy and content? Does perfect even exist?
Lately my house has been so messy that I’ve stopped inviting people round, arranging to meet at the park or soft play instead. It seems pointless tidying up when two minutes later someone will be squishing a banana into the carpet or flinging LEGO around. I feel like somehow I am failing if I can’t even keep the house tidy.
I try be involved with school and nursery so I’m on the PTA for both, because I feel like thats what a stay at home mum should do. I also try and help in Z’s class when I can, and I’m doing an OU degree because I want to have a career when the children are all at school. I try to read with Z everyday, and do activities we can all enjoy, but is all that too much? In trying to be perfect I wonder if I am actually becoming less of a good mum. Z and S don’t know or care that I go to PTA meetings, I think Z likes it when I go in school to help, but that time uses up part of one of the two mornings a week I have alone with H, so it is her who misses out. Would my children rather I just spent quality time with them rather than run around trying to do everything, and doing nothing very well? For example, while Z and I painted our eggs for school, S was much to my horror wiping her bum with a dettol wipe. Is perfect an illusion I will never reach and am I foolish to even try?
All I want is for my children to grow up feeling safe, secure and able to talk to me. Perhaps I should stop trying to be perfect and just be my imperfect self.
This post is linked up with the Britmums Carnival at Mummy From the Heart.