On deserving to feel happy on Mother’s Day

I can be a truly awful person. Grouchy, hormonal, occasionally a bit snarky or even, sometimes, bitchy. I sweat the small stuff -particularly sticky fingerprints, or worse, dust. I hyper organise, vacuum too much, and like my books in alphabetical order.

Some of this stuff means I can be an unreasonable parent with expectations that go beyond my children’s capabilities. I get pissed off when some forgets to flush, and tut and bother over muddy footprints, or bits of a game that have gone missing.

But in many respects, having children is what has forced me to look all that stuff in the face and concede that it doesn’t matter; that there are bigger issues at stake, and if I can’t sort my shit out, I’ll never be able to sort out anyone else. Having kids forced me to get therapy, deal with my demons, and learn to move on after a bad day, or even worse year. So these days, I’m not going to beat myself up about things that aren’t so perfect.

All things considered, I’m not doing too bad – especially considering my own rocky childhood – perhaps the incentive to do better for my kids, for all their own stability may backfire, in the sense that they may end up with the confidence to make bigger mistakes than I have been prepared to make. But as it stands, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved over the last 11 years.

As I stand on the cusp of the teenagehood (one of Jonah’s friend’s voices is breaking!), I’m much less fearful of what lies ahead. My son has matured into a kind, trustworthy and capable young man, who’s recent disappointment in coming third in the BMC climbing championships for his age, he dealt with in a way that made me bust a gut with pride.

And Ava, who I feared was going into her shell, has spent the week having two playdates and a birthday invite, and is currently ice skating with her father despite having oh so sensitive feet.

Things are going well, and while we’re in plain sailing mode – for I know things never stay settled for long – the temptation is the hold on to it while it lasts, for the one thing that’s sure about childhood is that it slips past before you know it, in long days and short years, tantrums, teeth, trials, tribulations and finally, the ignominy of becoming the object of teenage embarrassment.

But for now, right this moment, Jonah and his friend running round a sun-drenched park on a glorious, hot, cold spring day, being a mother is one of the best things in the world, for all it can often also be the worst.  And whatever else has happened, it’s a moment I know I deserve to savour.