Please forgive me.

I am not up for any parenting awards, that’s for sure. When I look at my circle of friends, I think I am the hardest on my kids. Some days I am proud of this, other days not so much. My patience is thin, and I shout a lot. I smack my kids and I threaten them with all sorts of evil if they “do not stop that immediately.” How they still love me as much as they do sometimes surprises me.

Yesterday afternoon I got a BBM from a friend which said that a friend of hers, who I don’t know, had lost her 3 month old baby. I don’t know all the details, nor do I wish to know all the details, but the baby died in the care of her day mother and it appears to be cot death, but that’s yet to verified. Furthermore, the mom had just gone back to work this week after maternity leave, and we all know how we felt leaving our babies for the first time. And four days later, this. I stalked the mom’s Facebook page this morning, and I felt sick as I read the messages of condolence pouring in.

My heart grieves for that mother and father and extended family. This angel gone so soon. I don’t know them, nor do I know the pain of losing a child but I cannot grasp or comprehend Liam or Hannah dying. And in that vein, I feel so very sorry for this mom; sorry – that word doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of this feeling – like I want to go into a corner and cry big ugly tears for her.

I want to get into my car and drive to Liam’s school right now and just squeeze him and say sorry for being so mean, so cold, so angry, so impatient, so damn irritable with him. For whatever, and whenever. I’m sorry! I’m sorry that even this morning, he got up on the wrong side of the bed and I wagged my finger in his face and said that if he dared cry because he didn’t want to get dressed, I’d give him a smack. I’m sorry! And Hannah, for brushing off your hugs and kisses because I’m always in such a damn rush to start the pots, or change out of my high heels or get you guys to bed. I’m sorry that I yell at you because you still suck a dummy and I can’t hear what you’re saying half the time, or because you leak through your diaper at night and I have to get up to change you. I’m sorry.

Incidents like this just bring home how precious our families, and in particular, our children are to us; to ME. I don’t expect to be perfect all the time, but I can kick myself for making the wrong split second decision just because I wasn’t in the mood.

As a testament to this little girl’s life, I am going to try my hardest to just be nicer. To be more loving and tender, even when I don’t feel like it. Even when Liam and Hannah are driving me absolutely batty, I’m going to try to remember that they are just little kids, who know no better, other than what I teach them. I thank God for my children, for the absolute joy they bring into my life… even when we’re fighting… I thank God that I have another day with them today. I pray earnestly that although all our days are numbered, that I get to spend days, weeks, YEARS more with my babies.

Cherish every moment, even the bad ones, because you just don’t know when it will be your last.


2 thoughts on “Please forgive me.”

  1. Oh my word! That is just the saddest thing….. You’re right… I can’t even begin to comprehend that awful feeling of knowing that your baby is gone… You’re right too that we should be more attentive, more present, to our kids. So sorry about this xxx

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