Am I A Bad Parent?

Every single night of the week, I go to bed thinking I am a shit parent.

I go over my day, think of all the stuff that happened, all the interactions I had with my four children and I somehow come to the conclusion that maybe I shouldn’t have had kids. 

Lately I’ve been battling with my son over his homework and his disinterest in it. It usually ends with me shouting a bit, and sometimes a lot – and I go to bed feeling like crap and telling myself I won’t shout at him again and to take a different tactic. Then it all happens again the next day. And the next. He is a great kid, adorable. But just isn’t in to school.

My eldest, Holly, is almost nine. She is the daughter I could only have dreamed of having. Intelligent, kind, caring and thoughtful. Yet I think this is all just coincidence and nothing to do with my parenting. I often find myself telling others about her ‘She would have turned out like that anyway, it’s nothing I’ve done’, ‘She must get it from her Dad’.  I just can’t seem to see that the good things my children are, could possibly have anything to do with my parenting, despite what my long suffering therapist tells me (I’ll save him for another blog).

My kids are lovely. They are healthy, cared for and loved by two parents who also love each other. 

Because I have so many kids and live in a foreign country without any family around, we are lucky enough to have some help. I have an amazing nanny, Helena, who comes a few days each week to share the load. I’m not going to lie, I can’t do it on my own and I find parenting four children difficult. Helena is everything that I’m not – patient, extremely calm, excellent with babies and she likes taking the kids to the park. Do I feel guilty for paying someone to do what I think I can’t? HELL, YES! 

Some of you may ask well why did you have so many kids? Well I don’t know. But I have them and that’s that. They are my life and I love each of them so much my heart hurts.

I often wonder if I am alone? Everyone else seems to cope so well with their kids. I read blog after blog of other Mums all saying how much they love spending time with their kids and well .. fuck. Sometimes I don’t. 

This all adds to my self criticism each night. The self loathing and the heartache that maybe I am a shit parent. Or maybe I’m just another Mum, doing her thing – loving, nurturing and caring for my kids as I know best.

Did I just write all that? Therapist Bob is going to have a field day.


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