My son is five…
It is fantastic. It is frustrating. I am flipping exhausted. FRAZZLED.
The soundtrack to my days is, mum, mum, mum?! In a growingly persistent little voice.
My little boy has a lot of energy and struggles to focus. When he was younger someone suggested he was teetering on the periphery of a behavioural disorder. That or I was feeding him IV caffeine and glucose.
All he wants is my time. Mum, mum, mum. But time it races by like a river after the rain and I struggle to stay afloat. It flies in an endless quantity of hasty happenings. He never stops and always wants MORE; more fun, more snacks, more talk, more entertaining, I am breathless with keeping up. There’s painting, and pirate role-playing, and inquiries about planets.
We skip, we play snap and we sing!
It is amazing and filled with love and laughter, but keeping it up for five hours is impossible without coffee.
Mum, mum, mum, through the night, even in sleep he demands I be near him.
I wake early and get dressed, get him up, reluctantly post sleepy limbs into the correct holes in his uniform, feed him…then fight over eating crusts! Loose his left shoe. Drive to school then straight to work, then straight back to school for pick up time, he has a snack and we go to whatever class is on that evening.
Is it a gym night, or a swim night, did I pack the right bag?
Mum, mum, mum!
I need a coffee! Or a wine! Perhaps a maid, a nights sleep and to hide in a cupboard.
We go home and do our reading before the overtired whine sets in. I cook dinner whilst trying to play. Constant questions and tugging on my sleeve.
I try to count to ten in my head, but get interrupted by three
If I am lucky I can cook my partners tea at the same time, if not I will cook again later. Some days we just get chips, take out Tuesdays. I feel bad but cannot face the buggering oven. It’s then a game, or trampoline time or me doing my Optimus Prime voice as we get our Transformers on.
MUM, MUM, MUM! Bedtime stories and the sleep battle follows a reluctant bath time.
I AM BORED. YOU ARE NOT LISTENING. PLAY NOW. JUMP HIGHER. MAKE ME LAUGH. RIGHT NOW. I often find myself get past the end of their tether…
This is my day as a mummy. I try and be patient but I sometimes just want to shout sod off.
I want to wee solo!
Sometimes in the week I put a film on Netflix, is that lazy parenting? We didn’t buy a license so we wouldn’t get drawn in to having Mr Tumble on daily in the background. Or worse, Peppa pig.
He woke at 5am Wednesday so I let him have twenty minutes on my tablet because I was just so tired. What amount of screens quantifies a bad parent? Do I burn in the mummy netherworld if I admit I like that he sits quietly concentrating, the only time he does, so I can run round like a bat out of hell (Meatloaf fan…) and get a couple of the 836 jobs I need to do in the day done. What more can I give?
Sometimes I sit on the toilet for an extra two minutes peace.
I love my son. his curiosity his ‘oomph’. I want to give him a world of adventures and answers. But ohhhh the nagging! How does everyone else manage?! Is there a an energy station somewhere because I need to fill up.
I am not perfect, I do not want my son thinking he needs to be, he sees I love him, he sees I try. Take a break if you can..hide in a cupboard, breathe, just love them and laugh, vigorously hoover something, get up ten minutes earlier and just sit with a cuppa, call your mum…we all have those days…be patient with yourself you are only human and there is no perfect parent.
Parenting is not about perfection and parenting is one big lesson in patience.
If you liked this post check out my most difficult test in patience: “MUMMY. I am going to poo in my Spiderman onesie.” The power battles of a five year old.