I Am a Terrible Mother​

Most of what I write and share on this blog is a kind of tongue-in-cheek observational snapshot of my life with small, slightly feral, children. I rant, I laugh, I curse the gigantinormous list of shit I need to do (and then curse the inability to complete any such shit without somebody crying). But it's all quite light-hearted and generally picks up on one or two moments from an otherwise event-free (and often quite pleasant) day. We cope just fine.

This week, however, I am not coping just fine. 

There are several fairly obvious reasons why this is so. One child has got chicken pox, the other child has got a cough and both me and Mr Unmumsy have got the flu. Last night, the pair of us woke up in a panic and patted down our pyjama bottoms, fearing that by some bizarre and unfortunate synchronised incident we had pissed ourselves in our sleep. We had, in fact, just sweated so much that we were lying in a puddle. That's too much information, sorry, I'm just setting the scene.

I am not here to write a blog post about the Flu Sweats, or the sheer disaster of running out of painkillers which led to me clawing at the medicine cupboard and desperately swigging Capol like an addict. I'm sat typing a post because above and beyond feeling physically crap this week I have found my emotional state slightly more alarming.

Tomorrow, incidentally, is Time To Talk Day and if we are to remove the stigma and embarrassment around mental health more generally I think us parents need to share our innermost thoughts and feelings every now and again. So this is me sharing my innermost thoughts from today (and I mean my actual thoughts - this is the state of my brain right now):

I wish I was anywhere else but here.
I can't cope with my own kids. I literally cannot cope with my own kids.
I shouldn't have had kids at all. Other parents just get on with it when everybody is ill. I am resentful that The Show Must Go On this week and it's not their bloody fault, is it? 
I hate what being a mum has turned me into. Why am I screaming at everyone?
I am a terrible mother.
This is not okay.
This is not okay.
This is not okay.

I'm not picking this apart. I don't need to tell you that I remain pretty satisfied with my decision to procreate and make two small humans (marginally less satisfied today, it has to be said, but satisfied all the same). I've been here many times before and have almost always shaken it off by 9am the next day when I'm teaching the kids the Macarena and eating Weetos out of the box.

I'm simply sharing that these were my thoughts today. 
Because we don't share our true thoughts often enough.