” Am I a shit mother or am I just a human?” That’s the question I have been asking myself since I saw this sentence in a book I read awhile ago.

Some days are hard… My kids couldn’t leave me alone and they are acting really whiny and I am really annoyed, my psoriasis was flaring up, I feel murderous towards my husband who is unaware of my needs, and I am struggling with my own identity and self-love, I feel lonely and running out of patience.

I yelled at the kids, very short in my temper and really just wanted them to go away. And I have alot of negative thoughts that were too horrible to be written down. Then the guilt crept in and I felt so bad about myself and thinks I am the worst mother ever.

But am I a shit mother or am I just a human?

I dont have the answer to that question yet. But I have coping mechanism that is healthy’ish. I stress baked.

 

And not just any particular baked goods that need careful measurement, ample of kitchen utensils, and intricate decoration. I baked SCONES. The ingredients are so simple, and I love the motion and the feelings when I crushed those butter and flour with my fingers. Then I just haphazardly roll them together and pressed them on baking mat and cut them into round shapes. And I listened to music in my headphone while doing it. And the most wonderful thing, it’s my husband’s fav desserts and my kids actually love eating them too (even if the ratio of cream to the scones are questionable, but never mind….) So out of my stress and love, I actually produce something good for the actual stressors. Haha. Talking about making lemon out of lemonade

So there you go, I still dont know if I am a shit mother or just a human. And I honestly dont feel comfortable with those feel-good slogans women throw “you’ve got this”, “You’re a good mum” etc… because those are so generic and they don’t know or haven’t seen the worst of me. But I will continue to sit on this question and keep baking scones …. because I feel better afterwards, and my husband and kids think that these scones were made out of love.

(Evidence of my love/ stress)