I’m Sorry…

Dear small daughter and tiny son,

I have a heartfelt apology to make. I am cross, I am moody, I sigh, I huff, I scowl and scold. But so often it is not your fault, it’s mine…

Last night, dear daughter, I made you feel terrible because you didn’t wipe yourself properly. You are four. You are small. You still need my help and instead of assisting you and showing you how again, I was angry with you though you’re trying your best. I cleaned you up but you could see I was annoyed. You said “sorry mummy”, in a small voice and my heart broke. What was I doing, that was so important, that I couldn’t be there to give you a hand?

Last night, dear son, I told you off because you once again helped yourself to the cat food. You may have been told not to before, but I am the adult, I should have put the bowl out of reach. You didn’t fail, little one, I did.

This morning, dear daughter, I sighed when you climbed into my bed looking for a cuddle in the early hours. I squeezed your hand, told you I loved you but I turned my back to get those last few precious minutes of sleep. I should have given you a cuddle, I should have held you tight in my arms and let you fall asleep against my chest – because who knows when these lovely snuggles and cuddles will end.

This morning, dear son, I was cross when you spilled your cereal all over the floor. You are not even two years old and I was annoyed that once again you’d insisted on feeding yourself, only to pour milk and cheerios on the tiles.I should have praised the progress you’re making, sat with you while you showed me how hard you’re trying and instead I was flitting about, making coffee, tidying up, a million things that could have waited while you showed me how well you’re getting on.

Dear daughter, I moan when you are loud but I have made you cry when I’ve lost my temper and shouted. What example am I setting you when I ask for one thing and show you another. You are tired, emotional and overwhelmed. We both are. But I’m the adult. You are a beautiful, exuberant, joyful child. I am so sorry.

Dear son, you look up at me with such innocent sincerity, expectantly, wanting to play. It’s 5am and I want you to sleep so instead of a loving mummy smile, you get a frown, a shake of the head.  But you don’t know about time. You only know what your body is telling you. I am so sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I am impatient, I am tired, I am stressed and I am often cross. But it’s not your fault. Too often I hold you to standards I don’t even maintain myself. You are tiny and young – I so often forget – you are children, not mini adults.

I’m so sorry.

When you leap into my lap and throw your arms around my neck, dear daughter, when you toddle over, clasp my legs and bury your little head in my knees, dear son, I feel a huge bubble of love burst inside me and I can’t begin to write how much you mean to me. I hope you know. I hope you can see past the grumps and grizzles.

I’m so sorry.

I will teach you to be good. I will show you right from wrong. I may still be strict. I will always be fair. But I will not punish you for being children. I promise to help you grow and support you as you learn. I will be patient, I will be kind and I will be understanding – because that’s what you deserve from your mother. I will try.

I will try.

I’m so sorry.

Mum x

About Anna-Belle

Anna-Belle, 35, is a writer, editor and entrepreneur, part-time foodie and lover of the odd dirty burger. Likes to leave half-drunk cups of tea around the place and go surfing or snowboarding about once a year to make herself feel cool again. Oh! And she’s a mum to two gorgeous children: Jacques (2015) an Alethea (2012).

Instagram: A_life_outside_the_box

Twitter: Two Little Time (@AnnaBelleBomb)

Image credit: Flikr. Sandro Lombardo. I’m sorry. Rome – 2015