I love you. But I did not want to spend an extra 3 hours with you during the night for no apparent reason.
I love you. But I did not need all your dolls in my bed this morning before 7am.
I love you. But I did not want to hear you wailing like you’d entered the fiery pit of hell because Anya beat you out of the bedroom and you’d hurt your foot.
The thing about parenthood is people (especially your own children) expect you to be on call 24 hours a day for the slightest thing and that you should always be delighted to deal with everything in a happy Mary Poppins type way.
I’m afraid I don’t. I am sleep deprived and I want everyone to know about it and cut me some slack.
No chance. In reality they looked momentarily pained on my behalf then go back to concentrating on the minutiae that has destroyed their day such as the wrong coloured plate/bowl, Anya’s insistence on being hot in sub zero temperatures so she MUST wear something summery, Matthew’s latest Lego disaster, Zach suddenly realising he hasn’t had any attention for a nanosecond.
The thing is I love them so much and one day they will have children and understand just how much. I was completely overwhelmed with love and unprepared for it. I told my parents and they said ‘Now you know how we have felt about you and Helen all this time’. It really was an unexpected revelation.
But that doesn’t mean I am not still me deep down. That I am an automaton who doesn’t have feelings and want my own space. The privilege of just going to the toilet on my own without sudden entrances brandishing a broken toy or something that apparently only I can sort.
My children will always be the most important thing in my world and I really would do anything for them but it doesn’t mean I always do it with good grace or deal with it at that precise second.
I love you but I’m only human…