This is such a honest post. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world and not always the fantasy we are led to believe it is.
When we were expecting our first child I thought the imminent birth would flick a switch in our lives
[pre-baby self – off]
[new-parent self – on]
I assumed it’d change my outlook on life, my former self would be a distant memory, of which it is not, I still remember feeling fully rested, prosperous and living life with ease, pyjama days out of choice and not because I just haven’t got any bloody time in-between my parenting duties, which are not made easy by our two spirited children.
I thought I would become a much more tolerant person, someone who can tolerate lengthy spells of crying, tantrums and screaming. That becoming a parent myself would help me excuse other childrens irritating behaviour. In fact, quite the opposite has happened, I can barely tolerate my own children screaming, crying and throwing themselves on the ground in shops just for the…
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