I am not the parent I thought I would be

I was never one to coo over babies I preferred puppies with their soft fur. Babies seemed loud, stinky, tiresome and tiring. I was not wrong.

Having children was something I had not really considered until I was 30. There was a slight concern that having a baby might not happen so having a child was my priority and I was determined to be a wonderful mother.

Raising a child would always be amazing and delightful- wrong!To say that child-rearing has been challenging would be saying that the Atlantic Ocean is quite big. I was utterly unprepared for the physical and emotional demands. I was, and am, at times a wreck. Should I admit this? Yes.

I had hoped to be able to reason with my offspring and do all those fabulous Mary Poppins inspired activities with a smile on my face. Wrong again- there seems to be a pattern. I have become a fish-wife at times bellowing commands and watching my own temper fizzle before my eyes.

I have become the nightmare neighbour who seems incapable of calm interactions between herself and her children- I shout. Is this the best approach? Probably not. Do I feel guilty when I shout? Yes. I never wanted to shout figuring that gentle directing, choice and positive responses would make loud voices unnecessary. Wrong again. I am getting good at being wrong.

I thought I would always be punctual but alas. My children do not see time the way I do- they dawdle when speed is needed and drive me nuts by needing to search for a blankie just as we are leaving even though I could have sworn it was in their hand. We, adults, see time as a constraint with a mental list of things to do in an alloted space- they see time like a flowing river; it gets where it is going no need to worry about the whys and wherefores. I should really see things their way more often. Maybe therein lies the crux of the matter- I expect them to be what they are not.

Child-rearing has not been the fluffy ride I thought it would be. It has been hard work and the hardest job I have ever done and will ever do. Every day should bring joy and there are moments but today is a day when I curse my generation for making women so competitive in all spheres. I give myself a C as a parent and know there is much to be learned.

I am learning way too much about myself and I am not sure I like what I find. I have less patience and tolerance than I had thought and there are days when I wonder if all the mothers around me who seem to be happy all the time are lying, Stepfordian in some way or they just have better drugs than us mere mortals.

I love my girls don't get me wrong but I find at times that I am unable to step back and watch them grow and enjoy these precious years. I feel trapped like serving time for being a mother- no chance of parole.

This is tonight and tomorrow morning when my littlest climbs into bed with me for a cuddle I will thank everything that I am who she wants and her warm little body against mine will remind me that these snuggles are just for a short time.

Each day brings new starts and tomorrow I will start not to shout as much and remember they are children after all and it is their job to bug me but mine to love them.