I am failing miserably at my attempts to be a good mother. Instead I'm a moany, grumpy mother who has spent the day doing as little as possible with her child.
Truth is, I'm knackered. My last full nights sleep was sometime in October 2008, and I've not had more than 5 hours in one go since then. I'm learning to cope with it, and most days, when I've only been woken up once in the night, I can cope. But today I've felt like hell. Lat night he boy was unsettled from when he went to sleep until he finally came in with me at 1am, and even after that he was awake at 5, climbing over me to get to my bedside table to get to my mobile. Which he then used to hit me in the face.
Of course, Nicky is the most wonderful, lovely, charming, delightful, funny, clever baby there has ever been, but when we have days like today I wonder why I thought having a baby would be a good idea. When we have days when he's grumpy, I'm grumpy and everything one of us does seems to annoy the other, I'm seriously tempted to put him on eBay. I have idly wondered, at times when he's pulled my hair for the nth time and screeched at eardrum splitting levels once too often, whether Angelina Jolie has room for another child. (Though he's probably not ethnic enough for her- he's oddly blond for a child with Chinese heritage)
In short, I am trying to be a good mum. But it's really, really bloody hard work, and I don't think that I'm ever going to be as good as I could be. Not until I get my full 8 hours again, anyway.