I’m writing this when I should be doing housework. It’s been one of *those* mornings. I’ve just sat and fed Little L while I sobbed. He looked up at me and smiled.
I feel like I’ve failed my children. I feel like a crap mum, a crap girlfriend and and crap daughter.
I took Little L to be weighed and he’s dropped down that fucking chart. I KNOW it’s a guideline. I KNOW he’s healthy so why do I feel like I’ve failed him? I’m exclusively breastfeeding so I feel like I’m not good enough now.
My house is a mess. I’m constantly chasing my tail. I got up early just so I could wash my hair before the onslaught of breakfasts and the school run for fucks sake. Now I’m sat here writing this pointless post.
Big L isn’t enjoying school. He’s not enjoying much apart from being with me. I so wanted him to be happy and confident and outgoing. All the things I wasn’t. But he’s sensitive, like me. Don’t get me wrong it’s lovely that he’s so sweet but I know how hard it is when you’re sensitive. “Why don’t people like me?” He asks. I’ve tried explaining that not everyone will like you, that it’s not important but he just wants to be friends with everyone. Like his mum did.
I wonder where the days go. Drop off and pick up come round so quickly, trying to fit in time for feeds and sleeps for Little L and housework. Little L has no routine. I’m crap.
Anyway. Better go hang some washing out and get on and stop feeling sorry for myself which makes me feel worse as I’m very lucky to have what I do.
Sorry for the less upbeat post but I think it’s important that everyone knows that not every day is a happy one. We’re all in the same boat. And we’re not crap.
I feel a bit better now. I’m not crap. Well. Maybe a little bit