Peppa Pig

has a lot to answer for.

Don't get me wrong, that 5 minutes and 10 seconds is virtually time gold for those who want to actually drink a coffee while it's hot, or have a moment's peace without a child hanging off them or repeating muuuum in a whiny tone and following up with nothing more than a cheeky grin before running away. And as a time filler while waiting for the doctor, there simply is nothing better.

Today it rained. Quite a bit. There were puddles.

Walking Miss 5 to school. She did it. She jumped in a puddle. In her school shoes and uniform.

So I asked her to please refrain from doing so.

She did it again. Straight after I asked her not to.

Yes. She did.

I blame Peppa Pig. That's the only explanation I have for my child not listening to me (yes, I know).

But realistically, I can't recall doing everything I was told as a child. In fact I took great pleasure in doing the opposite. On a fairly regular basis. Just to see what would happen. So in all reality I really have got off pretty bloody lightly. Though I do feel kinda bad for my mum.

Miss 5 is a bit deaf at the moment. Poor dear. Following on from the burst eardrum she seems to have a bit of dullness in the ole listeners. Given that she has had extended hearing loss in the past I am just hoping it is a temporary thing. So if she isn't hearing properly by this time next week I'll definitely be following it up.

It's hard to remember though. Sometimes it was even hard to remember when I actually KNEW she had hearing loss. But you do. You just do.

Calling out to her once, twice, thrice….nothing… and then the fourth time is tinged with a touch more "force" than the first three and she looks at you, wondering why you are almost yelling, when she hasn't done anything. And hadn't heard the first three. So then you feel like crap and beat yourself up for the next ten minutes.

Life is a bit odd like that. It allows us to emotionally berate ourselves. Some people do this more than others. Some may not do it at all. But I know of nobody that doesn't berate themselves at least a little. So perhaps it isn't nobody. Or very few people. Like 0.0000001 of a percent.

We need to control this though, because before we know it that berating begins to have a wearing effect on our self-confidence. It affects our mood. Our general being. The way in which we interact with people.

Just as a child who is constantly berated will rarely be as outgoing as a child who is allowed to be a child, receiving minimal chastisement, and only as necessary, say, for instance, when they attempt to perform amateur surgery using a toothpick and some dental floss.

It's a toughie. I know I am too hard on my kids. Because I am stressed a lot of the time because it is just me and sometimes it is just bloody hard to have to do everything for them, and work, and try to just do and be everything for everyone. Yes they help a little, but they are so little that there is only so much they can do.

I am making conscious efforts to stop. Take a breath. Calm down.

I am trying to put myself in their position. If I was them and I saw me and heard me, how would I be feeling?

And sometimes just doing that makes me feel like crap. So I mentally berate myself. Then I berate myself for berating myself.

So you see it is a bit of a thing that sometimes is not so easy to break as a one sentence 'advice' could suggest……

But I'll get there. So will they.

I tell my kids I love them a lot. An awful lot. So much so that the other day I said "I love you" and Miss 5 answered "I knooooow that, you tell us all the time!"

And I was rapt. And I told her I just wanted her, and the others, to know how very much they mean to me, and that even when I'm sad or angry or not happy for any reason, it never ever stops me loving them.

And they know that.

I love that they know that.

And I just love them.

To the moon and back.

A bazillion times infinity.