@Phineyj … it’s short lived, isn’t it?
At the moment the baby practically has a nervous breakdown when I leave the room: DS was the same and now aged three firmly rejects me for Daddy, Grandad, preschool teacher and the ice cream man (not quite.) That’s said tongue in cheek: when he hurts himself or has a bad dream it’s mummy he wants and I’m sure this pattern will stay for a good while. There will come a time and I logically know this when I can vanish to a museum, or meet friends for hours or even have a weekend away. But it’s a way off just now. It just is, and everyone shouting at me that I’m living my life wrong, wrong, wrong is just making me feel shit. I’m saying that clearly so people can see it.
I have been told repeatedly (not by you I hasten to add but by the many charming posters on this thread) I don’t love my children, or want them, or want to spend time with them. I shouldn’t have had them. I should think of those who can’t have children at all. I’ve been told the holidays we take are wrong. I’m too rigid, they’re over timetabled, I’m odd, strange, peculiar. At first you just shrug it off but it does start to grate then hurt, really hurt.
All I have and want are two happy children. But right now them both at the same time is hard going and saying otherwise wouldn’t be true. I am also not young, in fact in child rearing terms I am more Gran than Mum. But Mum I am and Mum I try to do well.