Do you ever get that feeling that you are just absolutely shit at everything you do? Please say yes and it is not just me. I woke this morning in a funny mood, the sun is shining, youngest has gone on his school trip, hubby is cleaning the garden and I basically have the day to myself. So why oh why am I so damn angry. Now I am not a depressive kind of person it is just not in my nature, but I have been known to get pretty pensive thinking about all I have done wrong in my life and then in turn, I get pretty shitty with myself.

For some reason today it seems that I am a pretty crap Mother, I try my best and so far both children seem to have turned out ok. However I don’t think I will ever be classed as a mother elite. You know the kind, always posting on social media how on Saturday they made tents, played for hours out the garden spotting and naming butterflies, painting a masterpiece all while cooking the whole family a nutritious, Healthy Balanced Meal. My Saturday consists of managing to drag the kids out of their beds to wash and brush their teeth, they then disappear back into the darkness that are their bedrooms. They are older now and really they do not want to spend time with me and hubby, when I do insist we do something as a family it usually ends up resulting in war. So the computer games win again. As for a healthy balanced meal, does the fact that the fish fingers take up the same amount of room on the plate as the waffles count? The rest of my Saturday is usually spend wondering if it is too early to open the wine. See mother of the year.

This isn’t all that’s bothering me about my mothering skills though. There was that time I dropped the eldest of to a party he was six. So we are talking 14 years ago. I asked another mother if she would watch him as I had to pick hubby up from work, by the time I got back he had been picked on by two other evil little shitbags who were hitting him off the bouncy castle. I have spent 14 years and all of last night beating myself up. Why oh why didn’t I stay with him. See, shit mother.

Also when eldest was in primary school, the whole class went on a trip and I got the days wrong, This was 12 years ago. I didn’t sign the consent letter. I sent him to school and they kept him in class, while all his friends went to pet zoo animals. 12 years this has tormented me for, why didn’t I own a calendar and write the date down. See, useless mother.

And then there’s the time I thought I would save the few pennies that I had and cut youngest’s hair myself, unfortunately for him I am definitely not a hairdresser, I put far too short an attachment on the clippers and he ended up with a forced buzz cut. He thought he looked like a marine, but truthfully it was horrific. See, crap mother.

And the time we went to Spain and I forgot to put suncream on youngest’s feet, the rest of him was plastered in cream but his little toes, I forgot.He spent the whole holiday unable to wear his shoes.  See, irresponsible mother

The list could go on and on, but as I am writing this, my mood is starting to lift, when I think of my two boys I am immensely proud. Somehow through this muddle that they call parenting I must have been doing something right. I am always complimented on their manners, eldest has got himself an apprenticeship and the youngest is in top grade for every subject. I may not be a perfect model mam but I am their mam. They love me and I absolutely adore every hair on their head. I don’t think I am going to beat myself up any more about what has happened in the past, firstly because I can’t go back and change it and secondly I realise we learn these skills as we go along. I have two happy healthy boys who if I asked them about the incidents mentioned above probably don’t even remember them. They affected me far more than them. The reason I think is that there is so much pressure on parents to be perfect in how they bring up their children and I think most of the people who are posting about their perfect family lives are probably doing so with a glass of vino in their hand, as their kids are plopped in front of the t.v.

Youngest is home from his trip at six, is that too early for wine?…Love as always Helen xxxx