Moan, moan, moan…

I took this from my archives because I was all out of ideas today, is that cheating??

God I am tired today.  My girl has been poorly and I haven’t had more than a couple of hours sleep in a night for over a week.  Come to think of it, I haven’t slept a full night for over three years.  I think I have aged 10 years since my daughter was born; lack of sleep is a killer for your looks.  I look in the mirror now and all I see are crows’ feet and grey skin.  Before I had my girl, I remember thinking how much older than me an old school friend looked.  Now I know why, she had kids.  So now we look the same age (well she may look a little older, she has two).

Sometimes I feel like all I do is moan, especially about how hard it is being a Mum.  How awful does that sound, moaning about being a Mum?  I mean how lucky am I to have a healthy, beautiful, energetic three year old?  So lucky, I know.  Yet still I moan.

I moan about the sleepless nights, the attitude, the dummy she wouldn’t give up, how long it took her to potty train.  I moan about the fact that sometimes I feel like I do all the work and my husband can pick and choose his responsibilities.  I moan if I can’t sit and read my book or if I can’t check my Facebook (really important stuff).  I moan if she cries in the night and I have to get up, I huff and puff when my husband doesn’t take his turn.

I feel ashamed to think about how much I moan.  I want to be the perfect Mum, to always be smiling and happy and to never get stressed.  I want to be able to do it all and never struggle or moan.  I wonder if there is a Mum like this who actually exists.

So I admit, I do moan a lot, but I also know how lucky I am.  I have the perfect life and my girl is the most important thing in it.  She is the best thing I have ever done, the most perfect little thing, funny, kind, clever, loving.  She has brought so much joy to my life, I actually can’t remember my life before her and neither do I want to.

I wish I could remember these things every time I’m about to moan and stop myself.  Because when I moan I feel like I am moaning about her and that is just not so.  It helps when I realise that almost every other parent I know is much like me. I think most Mum’s (and Dad’s) will admit that parenting is hard and that sometimes they struggle.  Once I greeted a fellow new Mum with “it’s so hard isn’t it?”  Her smiling response of, “oh no, I love every minute of it,” stayed with me for a couple of years and every time I thought about her and how easy she found it I felt guilty.  I shouldn’t have because when I spoke to her the next time SHE TOLD ME, “it’s so hard isn’t it?”  I reminded her of her earlier comment and she couldn’t remember saying it and certainly couldn’t remember feeling it.  That made me feel better.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that I should try harder to count my blessings each and every day.  But also, I should go easier on myself, after all I am only human, I’m not a robot.  And I need my sleep. God I need to sleep, please.

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