Most of the time the kids and I are a gang. My seven year is my best friend and we laugh together over cute sloth pyjamas and sing Ariana Grande at the top of our voices. My five year old is my little mate. We cuddle each night as he goes to sleep and the first thing he does in the morning is crawl into bed with me. But sometimes. Ever so often. My children don't like me. It might be because I shouted or wouldn't let them have their own way. Other times it comes like a bolt out of the blue and they break my heart and make me cry.
It doesn't really tell you that in the baby books does it. You know that being a Mum is proper knackering. That weaning can be a bit of a ball ache and potty training is terrible but nothing prepares you for when they are old enough to not always look at you in complete awe. Than rather than you sniffing their little heads you are faced with a slammed door or worse an eye roll. After years of trying to kill each other my two have a new favourite trick which is laughing when I tell them off. Whispering to each other and giggling behind my back.
It's bloody awful. The things that you created with love and adore so very much thinking you're a bit crap and quite frankly a pain in their bums. You want to shout "HANG ON IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LIKE REALLY REALLY LOVE ME. I AM YOUR MUMMMMMYYYYYY". But you don't you bang on about reward charts, or the naughty step, or five minutes in their bedrooms or my classic go to: sobbing a bit saying "don't be so mean to me" whilst looking at a confused husband.
I have no idea if this is what is going on in other people's houses as you don't tend to see it. You only really see super happy kids who dote on their parents. Not ones who clearly wish their Mum and Dad would p*ss off so they can eat sweets and trash the place. But the reality is ever so often my little gang consists of two small people who pick on the one big person. Me. And it sucks. I've found the best thing to do is ride it out until they go to bed and start afresh the next day.
As the next day always has the potential to be glorious. The next day may involves hour long cuddles in front of Strictly. Or a quick trip to Starbucks where you buy them hot chocolates with their names written on. The next day you may run around the park screaming with glee or decide to have a picnic on the carpet. There is always the next day. So with every door slam. Or a "I DON'T LIKE YOU MUMMY" I count down the minutes till bedtime and the brand new fresh day that is just around the corner.