Once she finally gave in and went to sleep, of course, it was a bedtime routine that consisted of countless trips back to the toilet, multiple drinks and just one more good night kiss! When she was eventually sound asleep, I found myself sat on her bedroom floor staring at my beautiful innocent little girl. I was sat there racked with mummy guilt! For so many reasons! Because I raised my voice over her tantrums, because my patience wore thin, because I didn’t do anything ‘fun’ with her because I was too busy trying to get on top of the housework and washing, which still isn’t finished! Because I let her eat so many snacks in the hope that she would give me 5 minutes to run the hoover around the house.

I felt guilty for wanting some time on my own, for wishing her bedtime would come around so quick, for allowing myself to get so frustrated at my two-and-a-half-year-old when all she was doing today was sharing her frustrations with me. I felt guilty for not making the most of our day because she’s going to grow so fast because I won’t get that day with her back. 

I felt guilty for allowing myself to get frustrated with her because I wanted to be a mum for so long and I should be enjoying every moment.So, I cried. Out of anger. I was angry at myself. For letting myself feel this way…again. Yesterday was hard, a tough day. That’s allowed. I know this because I’ve felt this way before, so many times before. 

It’s normally a day that I’m having a fibromyalgia flare and I’ve had to ask someone to help me with Heidi because my fibro has overtaken my body and I haven’t been able to do what I should be able to. With that I’ve learnt that I don’t have a choice with my illness, I cannot control it and if Heidi spends the day with one of her grannies’ she comes backfilled with stories and has always had a blast, it took me a while to realize that she doesn’t care that on that day the fun she had wasn’t with me.

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