Working Mummy Guilt

My amazing friend recently posted on her blog about working Mummy guilt, this is my take on it.

Someone once told me that only the good mummies feel guilty. So in some twisted way I must be a good Mummy as I feel very guilty for working so much

It is good to work and it is good for E and N to see me work, to have instilled in them a work ethic. They have a strong, independent Mummy who works hard for the things she has. Who works so they have ‘nice things’ like holidays and the occasional day out.

E  & N are girls, girls know how to ‘get to’ Mummy, they know just how to push our buttons while pulling our heart strings. I seem to spend my life in a rush, always late leaving the house, late doing tea, late running the bath.  As for later than usual bedtimes I regularly check my watch after kissing E goodnight and it is closer to 8 than I would like it to be, then I blame myself for not being a better, more organised Mummy when E is tired, grumpy and tearful.

E has had a LONG first term at school, and is so tired and emotional our house is a roller-coaster of mood swings, but then I just blame myself again for not being more patient as I too am tired and a little bit stressed about the lack of days between now and Christmas Day.  The other day we were rushing to nursery we were late leaving the house as the girls refused to put their coats on, eventually after much shouting (me), foot stamping (them) and crying (all of us) we left the house. The girls were running down the road (we live 100 yards from nursery) N slipped on some ice, fell and put her tooth through her lip.  I felt guilty because we shouldn’t have been rushing, I should be more organised.

I totally get the Mummy Guilt thing, the hours J and I work destroy me. Our one family day a week is so precious. I miss my little girls on a Saturday, I HATE working 6 days a week. I feel like I am missing out on so much. My precious, beautiful, vivacious, funny, caring and amazing little girls hardly see me, especially N who is at nursery 8:15am – 5:45pm 5 days a week. I am very self critical and often chastise my self for being a crappy tired Mummy.

Sudden changes in the morning when E gets ‘dumped’ at breakfast club because staff are sick, having to go back to work after school as I have jobs and orders to finish or just simply because we do not have enough staff make things even worse.  E & N love helping at the shop and E merrily annoys chats to lots of customers about her day and many of them will sit and read with her.

The other day E asked me if I was happy now, I asked her what she meant and she said that she has worried about me being sad since she saw me cry when the bad men tried to take our shop away and that it was ok now as we had a newer, bigger, better shop. I almost cried again, that all happened over 6 months ago and she still remembers me crying. ‘Mummy broke’ is what she said, she said she was scared because she didn’t know how to make me happy as she was only little and I was always the one who made her happy when she was crying.  This is wrong, she should’t worry about me she is 4.

Today after the terrible news from America about all those children, I am trying hard to feel less guilty. No matter how tough/long/shitty my day has been I can creep upstairs and give my sleeping babies a kiss because my babies are safe and sound.

In 10 sleeps I will make the magic of Christmas happen, it will be me that whips up the magic and gets to see the awe and wonder in my little girls’ faces on Christmas morning. Today I know that no matter how hard I work, no matter what time I get home from work or how many Saturdays I have ‘wasted’ at work my amazing little girls who both take my breath away every time I look at them, are safe sleeping in their own beds.

I have now made myself a crying mess.

Lady Briggs you are a great friend but an even better Mummy. I know this because I am a Mummy too and Mummies know EVERYTHING.

 

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Hello world!

OK, here goes.

I have no idea what I am doing but I thought that it might be good to get some of the stuff in my head, out.

I am popping my blogging cherry and I am scared.  I am sure that my lovely friends who blog will hold my hand and help me (that may involve wine) I am good at talking so I should be good at blogging (maybe)

So here’s to Silent Sundays, The Gallery and the random stuff that falls out of my head

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