I'm No Supermum

It's true; as much as I would love to be, I am not Supermummy.  It is obvious to see, on a daily basis, where I am going wrong:-

My house is a mess.  Despite feeling as though every spare moment is spent washing up, doing laundry and cleaning, the house always manages to look as though a hurricane has blown through it.  Or we've been burgled and all they took were my skills of organisation.

My children watch television.  Almost daily.  And I've read Toxic Childhood so I know that I may be turning them into little monsters, but they enjoy watching Peppa Pig in the morning and Charlie and Lola before bed and, more importantly, it keeps them quiet.

My son is a fussy eater.  Scratch that - he is a total nightmare to feed.  Weaning went well; I distinctly remember him eating puréed avocado at the age of five months and being very impressed with his adventurous eating habits.  Of course, I was also feeling very smug that I had made the time to go through the horrendously tedious process of cooking, mashing and puréeing every fruit and vegetable known to man, for the sake of my baby.
Alas, it didn't pay off.  I now have a 19 month old who, on a good day, will eat cereal, sandwiches and a bowl of cous cous.  I have even been known to give him Weetabix for dinner, just so I know he's not going to bed hungry.  Supermummy would not do this!

My three year old daughter had a dummy for more than two years, and still sometimes asks for a bottle of milk at night.

My son (the aforementioned fussy eater) screams when put to bed every single night.  Despite going through the same routine, night after night - dinner (usually left untouched), bathtime, stories, bed - he reacts as though I have done something unusual by putting him to bed.

I could go on, but I think you get the picture - I'm never going to win mum of the year.

But I look at my children and I think it doesn't really matter.  Even though I'm getting things wrong on a daily basis, the children are growing.  They are healthy, happy and displaying incredible intelligence.  They are beautiful (I can say that because they really look nothing like me).  My daughter gets herself up and dressed in the morning, cleans her own teeth, brushes her hair - all of these skills she has learned from her parents, so we must be doing something right!  At the age of 19 months, my son takes his bowl to the kitchen after breakfast, says please and thank you and tidies up after himself.

So, while it's true that I'm nowhere near being Supermummy, it's ok; I am happy to settle for being a proud mummy.