Skip to main content

A mother's guilt

I have a confession to make...

Little Miss M is only 3 years old (no, that's not my confession.  Read on).  She's the sweetest thing.  Really she is.  And she just loves to talk.  She just can't seem to stop.

However, even though she loves to talk and can have quite grown up conversations, she doesn't really know how to "fight".  I don't think so, anyway.  I mean, I'm right in the throes of guilt at the moment, so that means my child IS AN ANGEL with a HORRIBLE mommy.

So, at this point in time, my dear sweet child is, in my mind and probably in reality as well, incapable of fighting.  

And when I report to my Dear Husband that Little Miss M and I had a fight, what really happened is that mommy (that's me) had a hissy fit.  That's right.  And if I report that I had a bad fight with Little Miss M, it probably means that I threw a tantrum.  Not an adult's equivalent of a tantrum, but a real screaming, hair-pulling (my own hair, mind you), make-any-3-year-old-proud, tantrum.  

It's my secret shame.

But it won't be a secret anymore.  And it won't be my shame anymore.  Because I am giving up my tantrums.  Cold-turkey.  No more.  

So that's my confession and my promise.  I hope I never have to confess to this again.

And, in the meanwhile, to assuage my guilt, I made this for my little one.  



I love you Little Miss M.  And I'm so sorry for my bad behaviour.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

10 on 10

"Finding much life and beauty among the ordinary things of our day"... 10 photos over 10 hours - a snapshot of the beauty in my sometimes-ordinary-sometimes-hectic- sometimes-overwhelming-sometimes-good-sometimes-bad-but-always-filled-with-love life.  Thanks for dropping by! Good Morning, mama! Strong hands; precious cargo Got to love me a well-organised, rubbish-free art box! Good nap, lil' sis?  Wanna come out to play? Let's get ready for lunch Inspired to bake something yet, mama? Sleep, my little one.  Rest well and get better soon. A little Iced Coffee, sweetened with life's elixir - sweetened condensed milk - to get me through the rest of the day New skills and new discoveries An organized toy bucket - be still my anal obsessive heart For a glimpse of beautiful lives across the world (thanks to digital cameras and that wonderful sharing community that is "bloggers"), please head on over to Rebe...
8 comments
Read more

Monkey See; Monkey Do

I was just monkeying around the kitchen... I had some dough leftover from baking dinner rolls and cinnamon buns (yeah - it was alot of dough!) and I had seen this idea from the Pioneer Woman previously.  Cinnamon, butter, sugar and a dash of sweetened condensed milk - yes please!!!  Ok, so maybe, just maybe, I accidentally on purpose put some dough aside just so I could indulge in this .... well, indulgence. And what an indulgence - worse still, an easy indulgence as I already had the dough.  Caramelised cinnamon sugar with a bit of bread covered with sweetened condensed milk.  I don't think I really need to say more. And, in honour of Father's Day, we had special "WE heart DADDY" pancakes... ok ok - I ran out of time, energy and ideas this year.  (Note to self - try harder next year!) Don't mock the banana - at $12.99/kg this is a real treat.  Unfortunately Daddy was too slow and Little Miss M took it and ate it.  It might be Fat...
4 comments
Read more

My wardrobe - Limited, Capsuled, Altered, and Zyla'd

My wardrobe A while ago, I had simplified my wardrobe.   Jeans, t-shirts, runners.   Yep – simplified. And, as “young” mum, I was happy with this.   “Young Mum” in her thirties, huh?   So, let’s explain something first.   For most of my thirties, I think I’ve been stuck in my twenties.   Both in my mind and in how I look.   What do I mean by this, really?   Well, we all know how most twenty-year-olds dress.   Body confidence is high (or ignorant!).   Happy to be sloppy like a uni student; happy to dress up in a little black dress to party on; happy to don a sexy suit and glasses and face the corporate world.   No problems over here.   Except my body is no longer as pert as it was in twenties.   Imagine that – carrying three babies to full term apparently does that do you! Also, this twenty year old used to think that life was one big role play.   Throw on my corporate suit – and bam – I’m the corporat...
2 comments
Read more