I started my day with a lovely cup of Yorkshire tea, sandwiched between my two boys (the best part of lazy mornings) and everything in the world seemed right; a total sense of completeness.
So when I spent a gorgeous afternoon yesterday celebrating with friends at a baby shower – I couldn’t help but wonder why I spent so much of the day thinking about the pros and cons of adding a third child to our already beautiful family?
I mean – we were all there celebrating a few hours of freedom, to drink tea, eat cake, drink more (not tea) and chat uninterrupted – escaping parenting for a few hours, so I ask myself at the end of the day, why on earth am I floundering between my already perfect little family…where there is a little bit of freedom on the horizon and doing it all again!
Having three children looks bloody hard! I mean when you do get talking about adding to the brood, people tend to talk mostly about the logistical issues - about holiday issues, needing bigger cars, needing a bigger...
So yesterday I had what I would call a FUCK YOU kind of a day.
It was horrendous.
I woke up at the crack of dawn and felt ready to conquer the day after catching up with some work before the little sound of baby steps and incessant screaming for cereal!
Within an hour, everything had gone totally tits up.
I’m not going to go in to the ins and outs of the minuscule to mountainous issues, but it was pretty obvious that the beautifully calm last day of the holidays that I had envisioned wasn’t happening.
When I picked up my diary to reflect at the end of the day (which was a struggle at best) – I couldn’t think of one thing that I had done well.
In fact my biggest achievement was saving my children from killing each other like an unpaid referee (which of course is a whopping achievement).
Waking up this morning with big puffy eyes and after a night of clutching the edge of the bed for dear life because my child channels his inner acrobat all night, I made a conscious decision to forgive myself...