Baaad Mother

Yesterday evening I finished posting, put on some 60's music, walked into my bedroom, walked out again, had to sit down and started editing a post for stigmum.

Title: Sometimes I think I don't deserve my child

I was then going to issue an apology. Sorry. Then issue a warning. Don't read this, I just need to puke. I can't do it in a journal, I have to do it here.

Not about smoking, about something else. Something else that happened.

The more I thought about how I'd write it, the worse I felt. I was flailing.

The phone rang. It was Annie. She'd just had a couple of drinks with guys from work and didn't want to go home. Where was I?

At home. Do you want to come round? I've been invited to a party later if we fancy it.

She arrived some 20 minutes later and huuuuuuuuge hug! All the huuuuger as The Flowerpot Men sang Let's go to San Francisco, where the flowers grow, so very hiiiiiiiiiigh!

I puked on her. I had to, flip. Not physically obviously, but I've not seen her since before christmas, and if I couldn't contain my thoughts in a journal, I wouldn't have been able to contain an hour with her without talking about it.

She off loaded her stuff back on me, it was, flipping marvellous!

So sorry reader, I can't share my shit, even though I'm 'anonymous', even though value could be drawn from it somehow, in a few years for me, sooner for someone else perhaps. Even so, I felt like a shit mother, a shit person, I felt I didn't deserve my child.

I felt all this on a day where three bloggers wrote about bad motherhood. Notsupermum, Pippa and Rosie Scribble.

They came at a perfect time for me. Perfect. Thank you, mammas. Notsupermum has set up the Good Enough Mother's Club having done away with her Bad Mother's Club, which I'd've dived into head first to be honest.

Her idea for the Good Enough Mother's club, is inspired and brilliant, in a society where we are not valued for what we do at all. Where all the choices we make are wrong, in that person's eyes.
Geez, is that why I reign back on what I could post? Maybe. The finger of judgement sometimes is so very pointy and I'm not feeling too proud of myself right now. Hence my desire to 'hurt' myself.

Barely anybody reads this, I shouldn't give a shit. Somebody I care about knows about the blog though and I don't want to hurt her, anybody, me.

So flip, yes, posts about motherhood yesterday, the normality of what it is, a soothing balm. Pippa's written I'm the best mother ever this morning, to go with her I'm the worst mother ever yesterday. Go Pippa!

Bad mother, good mother,
Good enough mother
Give us all a break mother
I'm going to have a shower mother
cos I'm a dirty stinkin' mother
who has nice shower gel