Terrified

It's hard to put into words the more challenging side of motherhood. Yet lately I've been feeling it more than ever.

The relentlesness. Sleeplesness. Feeling like someone's slave. Feeling impatient, angry, tired, hormonal. On the one hand wanting only the best for my daughter, wanting to be the very best mum for her. On the other, the reality that I am flawed and my perfect parenting moments are few and far between.

You wouldn't know from looking at my instagram or facebook feed, as I, like most mum's, tend to only post the good stuff. Of course, because who wants to see a selfie of my tear stained face at 4am, or a video of Ada screaming at the closed door while I'm vomiting over the toilet and wishing she'd leave me alone for one minute. None of that is glamorous, and none of it is too regular, but it's reality.

Not quite the whole truth

I am completely terrified of being a mum to two small children. I love my kids, but I am not one of those natural mum material types. I struggle not to be selfish, to give my all to my kids. Luckily one of them is still in utero, but the impacts on my body (regular vomiting, fatigue, HORMONES) are influencing how I parent Ada already.

It's not Ada's fault- sometimes I will handle her toddler behaviour with ease and grace, with boundaries and love. Other days I snap at her, cry in the kitchen and sneak chocolate when she's not looking. She is changing and growing and testing boundaries and it's all totally normal. It's my responses that change from day to day, and I don't think this is fair on her.

When thinking about the months ahead, about adding a baby to the mix, I am equal parts excited and terrified. How can I share my time and love fairly between two kids? How can I be the mum they both need? I don't know at this point.

So there's the reality. Parenting highs and parenting lows. I know I'm not the only mum to feel this way, and I know that 'this too, shall pass.'

Parenting a toddler

Parenting a baby is one thing, but I'm finding parenting a toddler is where the rubber hits the road.

Ada is two. And we know it!

She's cute: she can sing all of her ABC's, twinkle twinkle and EIEIO at loud volume. She has discovered stars and planes 'look mummy look!! pane!' She insists on goodnight prayers every night, and when she's in the right mood she can charm anyone. It is so fun re-discovering the world through her eyes.

She's challenging: she throws epic tantrums, at least one a day. She hardly eats and prefers popcorn and chippies. She has found her high pitched squeal and uses it loudly and has discovered the art of slamming doors. 

Everyday my patience is tested, and I refine and hone and chop and change my parenting styles and values. At my core I value a mix of gentle parenting along with strong boundaries and clear rules. I have vowed to never smack Ada, but that doesn't mean I am doing gentle parenting perfectly- I get impatient, I snap and have sworn under my breath on many occasions.

Yesterday was 'one of those days' and I ended it feeling like an awful mum and glad to be in bed. Ada was grumpy, had watched far too much TV and tantrums through our dinner. She refused to eat.

Today though, she is happy, entertaining herself, eating well and has watched hardly any TV. 

I have done nothing different- today and yesterday- and I guess I'm slowly learning that she has ups and downs, just like me, and it's not a reflection on my parenting. In the end, I know she will turn out allright. I will show her patience, and love and problem solving, and at other times I'll be grumpy and too quick to snap, and I guess that's ok - I'm human too and she's learning, slowly, about empathy through that.

Me and my kid. She is sure teaching me a lot.