Skip to main content

I am the mother of the naughty kid

I am the mother of the naughty kid.
The one who screams too loudly on the bus.
The one that doesn't sit still.
The one you walk past and he is having a massive tantrum. You look at us, smile politely and I can see how you are glad it isn't you.
I know the looks we get.
I feel their eyes burning into my back and I feel as though my parenting ability is being judged.
I can see the disapproval in your eyes when you see my child leg it off down the road.
I am the mother of the naughty kid who has to shout. Alot.
He is the one who hasn't quite learn to share or understand to take turns at the park.
Despite us drilling it into him to be kind he will probably push your kid over. I will apolgise profusely and deliver a time out as my face flushes red. You watch me wrangle a now board stiff toddler to the sidelines whilst grappling a wriggling newborn.
He will take your kid's toy despite us talking about sharing the whole way here.
I will go home and cry and wonder why my child doesnt behave? Why he isn't like your children.
That I am a bad parent as I cannot control my child when we are out. That its my fault he doesn't listen, walk nicely or just sit still.
I will now avoid taking him out due to the anxiety he will not behave.
The words ADHD are flippently said and root in to my subconscious.
He isn't always a brat but he is frustrated and unsure of himself. How he should act so he lashes out.
He is strong willed and stubborn.
He isn't nasty on purpose.
What you don't see is how loving and caring he is.
How amazing he is when he behaves at home.
What you dont know is what he has been through.
What you don't know is how we as parents feel when you are looking at us like that.
We are his parents but we do not control him.
He is his own person and right now he is the naughty kid but it doesn't mean he is a bad kid.
I am the mother of the naughty kid and I am just trying my best and so is he.


Popular posts from this blog

Dear Elijah, on your fourth heart day

Elijah the heart hero never letting anything stop him. Today  is your 4th heart day. It's 4 years since we took you down to Great Ormond Street for open heart surgery. It seems to have crept up on us again. Another whole year has passed but it hasn't changed how I feel about that day. Some have said that oh, by now surely you should have gotten over it after all it's been 4 years. The answer is I don't think I ever will. I have been thinking a lot about that day, where I signed the consent forms for them to take you and operate on you. To either save or take your life. That day was the worst of my life, the unknown certainty of whether you would come back up again. I held you as they put you to sleep. They gave me your dummy as they took you from me and laid you on the operating table as if you weighed nothing. I couldn't even kiss you goodbye in case it was the last time. That's why I won't ever get over it and those who have been in the

The time Fajita night resulted in having a baby in a bath.

The newest Cockerill Do you all remember my ever so optimistic natural birth plan? You can read it here. However, spoiler alert, it didn’t happen. What did happen was something no one was expecting. Wednesday the 5 th July… a mundane sort of day spent cleaning the house and doing the weekly shop. With Greg going back to work the next day I was determined to make sure everything was ready for when this baby arrived! I was three days off my due date and still hadn’t had one single sign this baby was imminently coming. I had been receiving messages from quite a few people asking if baby was here yet. I was getting fed up as everything I had tried to induce labour failed miserably and every morning for the last two weeks I woke up disappointed I wasn’t in labour! I gave up, walking didn’t help, pineapple made me sick and I was beginning to tire of the raspberry leaf tea. This baby was staying put. In the evening I put Elijah bed, and we began to settle down for the eveni

The one with Elijah's heart surgery.

We were back. April 22-28 2015, a year ago this weekend. In just two short weeks since we last went down to London. We had to go down the day before and check in and have another blood test. As all of the forms had been signed last time, we were out again within an hour or so. Back to the same family accommodation, in a different room and with a lot less luggage. Something felt different this time, although I didn't want to believe it was going ahead in the event it was cancelled again, deep down I knew it would be. The morning of the surgery I knew how I would feel as we had been through this all before. I didn't want to go out for a meal so we ate in the hotel room watching ch5 rubbish after Elijah went down in the travel cot. Its odd that through the whole pre admission, cancelled op and the actual operation I can remember what shit we watched on TV and what we ate for tea that night. One of those weird things that just sticks in your head. Sort of like when you rememb