Contradictions

I’m a mass of contradictions, a big ol’ un-opened can of worms,

I’m super anally retentive but would rather blog than eradicate germs.

I don’t like pictures to be wonky or ornaments to be out of line,

But washing, ironing and dusting stuff aren’t favourite hobbies of mine.

 

I like things to be neat and ordered and yet run round like a blue-arsed fly,

I’m often found at the tumble dryer of a morning, waiting for uniforms to dry.

I like my kids’ homework to be pristine, for them to hand in stuff on time

And yet I’ll leave the house with snot smeared clothes, ten years past their prime.

 

I genuinely love to exercise but equally I love to drink lots of white wine;

I never relax, my mind’s always on the go but I crave tranquillity all the time.

When I find myself with nothing to do, the boredom drives me completely crazy;

When I’m busy and don’t have time to draw breath I’d give anything just to be lazy.

 

I adore my children more than life itself and every day they make me feel blessed;

Yet they drive me to distraction each morning by messing and not getting dressed.

I can’t help but feel resentful of their little party in the bathroom each time I have a poo

But when they’re not climbing on me and showering me with kisses I don’t know what to do.

 

Sometimes I just want to freeze time so they will stop growing up so damn fast;

But I also crave some independence and getting a little ‘me time’ at long last.

I dream of a clean and tidy house without tripping over toys left on the floor

But I know when I finally achieve it, I’ll cry that they’re my babies no more.

 

I strive for a work/life balance, to split my time between my job and being a mother;

But all that happens as a result is that I don’t feel I’m succeeding at one or the other.

Whilst at home with the kids I feel frustrated because I’m not using my qualifications.

When I’m working I worry I’m not up to it, that I’m falling below expectations.

 

But contradictions are all par for the course, even when some of them make us feel crappy,

Because all we’re really trying to achieve is make ourselves and our children happy.

I suppose that I’ll have to learn to accept that being a mother is to settle for compromise,

And that it’s only important to be seen as perfect…if it’s through our children’s eyes.