Parenting is really bloody hard, somedays I feel like I’m winning, but let’s be honest, 9 days out of 10 I feel like I’m fighting a war with 2 mini me’s, and unfortunately they got my stubbornness.
Just recently they have both started shouting “you’re not my best friend anymore” (yes even the 2 year old), and sometimes I catch myself replying with “I’m not here to be your best friend, I’m here to be your mother!” Albeit, they are 2 and 4 so don’t quite have a grasp on what I’m replying yet, but sometimes I’ve got to burn a little steam too.
But it is true, I can’t always be my child’s friend, that’s not what I am here to do, I am here to raise and shape them into young men, that I’m proud to send out into the world, with no fear of them doing something they shouldn’t, or hurting people, whether that be physically or emotionally. I want to be proud of my children, and 95% of the time I am.
The other 5% include the times they paint the walls in their tea, or poo on the toilet floor, or get up at 4:30am and of course the famous public tantrums, which are times I’m perfectly allowed not to be pleased with them.
There are of course times when I need to be their friend, and I will always want them to be able to confide in me as they grow older as I did my own mum. I never want them to feel like they can’t tell me something, whether it’s just that they got a bad grade, or whether it’s something as big as their sexuality, I want to be there for any and all major and little milestones in my boys lives. And although some evenings when they are all tucked up in bed and I’m sitting with a cider rocking in the corner pulling my hair out, wondering what the hell I let myself in for ever having children, at the same time I can’t help but just be overwhelmed with love for the little terrors.
So here is to raising my beautiful, stubborn, kind, loving, little monsters, that I love with all my heart, even if sometimes, I’m not their best friend.