Us British, we love to apologize, especially when something isn’t even our fault.
For example, as you are walking along a packed train station and someone runs past, cracking you right across the shin with one of the 10 over sized bags they have draped around them, what is the first thing us British do?…
Shout ‘Oh sorry!’ before they (the ones who actually caused the bodily harm) have even acknowledged what they have done or apologized themselves.
The only other group of humans I have found to hold this rather useless personality trait is mothers. We blame ourselves (and other mothers) for everything!
Little Tim’s unbreakable love for all beige food…… Mums fault!
Emily’s inaudible and ear piercing tantrums…. Mums fault!
The runny poo that Dylan had 5 weeks ago…. Yes you guessed it, Mums fault!
It’s just hit me this week the amount of crap my children do that I blame myself for, yet has absolutely nothing to do with me. And after blaming myself that I’ve brought my daughter up wrong because two kids at school didn’t want to play superheros with her, I realised that I’m making my life a misery and it has to stop.
The only people we need to say sorry to is ourselves, for the amount of shit we put ourselves through. So…
I’m sorry for blaming you when everything goes wrong.
The kids are fuckers.
Everyone else’s child seems to be able to play nicely with other kid’s, no one but your devil child pull’s tantrums, and no other children ever come out with ghoulishly mean comments that make you wonder if you should pack them off to a youth offenders center at the age of 4. You’re obviously such a shit mum. This is all your doing!
Well really…. It’s not!
You constantly blame yourself and your parenting technique when there are so many other factors that shape your child’s behavior. Like that little shit of a kid they just befriended, or twatty Peppa Pig, who is supposedly age appropriate, that teaches our children nothing more than being a huffy little know it all, who treats their mates like shit. Or MAYBE, just maybe….. your kids genetically just a little turd!
I’m sorry for putting so much pressure on you.
Why oh why did you have to read so many books?! And why was google ‘search your symptoms’ ever bloody invented?!
Thanks to Gina Ford, you are the only parent in the world that can’t get your child to sleep from 7 to 7 without a feed, and a quick search of Google and Facebook now means you have given your child Autism because you let it watch Peppa Pig (see, twat!).
Seriously though, what a load of balls!
All this pressure has stopped you from realizing what a bloody good job you have been doing. Gina has no clue about your child, if she did her book would be called ‘The New Contented [insert your child’s name here] Book’. As an adult I don’t like being dictated too about when I should sleep, when I should wake up or when I should eat, so I highly doubt a child does either. As for Peppa causing Autism, I know she causes a right pain in my arse, but I reckon that’s about as far as it goes.
I’m sorry for making it competitive.
Girls are taught to compete from such a young age.
We compete in the classroom as to who is the smartest, we compete for boys attention, we compete as to who is more popular and liked, hell girls in my school even competed to see who had the toughest punch. Motherhood seems to be no different.
We mentally batter ourselves because Margaret with the five kids, from three doors down who has her shit together, has made it out of the house with all five kids perfectly gleaming from head to toe for the 20th morning in a row, while you sit at home wondering how much longer you can hold this brewing turd in for because no child will let you visit the bathroom alone or uninterrupted again.
At the end of our lives no mother wins an award for being the best parent. Your children wont search for another grieving child and battle out with them as to who had the best mother. All we can hope for is that the genetic turd gene they carry slowly fade’s as they reach adult hood, and they grow up into respectable adults who recognize that we did the best for them. No amount of competing with Margaret as to who can get out of the house the earliest, or teach their child the alphabet backwards first is going to help with that.
I’m sorry for putting everyone else first.
Our main motto in life, ‘If my kids are alright, I’m alright’ is killing us.
Instead it should be ‘look after myself, in order to look after my children’.
I know this all too well, when I decided that it was easier to push my mental health issues to the side and instead not be selfish and look after my children. But after four years of struggling with Postnatal Depression I realised what I was actually doing was making life harder for us all.
I’m sorry that I never took the 30 minutes out of my day that I needed to gather my thoughts. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize looking after my mental (and physical) health wasn’t selfish. I’m sorry that at the times I needed self care, I replaced them with caring for others and running myself down further.
Putting everyone’s wants and needs in front of my own didn’t make me selfless.
It didn’t make me a better mum.
Putting me and my health first did that. And that’s probably the biggest sorry I need to say off all.