Some days.

Some days you put the baby down to sleep, pour yourself a glass of wine, sigh in contentment and think 'I've been a good Mum today'. I've played with Duplo for more than 30 minutes and haven't sneakily put Corrie on in the background. I didn't change my tone once when Ava smeared pate all over the carpet and instead I just laughed and cleaned it up. I've given her fruit and rice cakes and resisted the lure of the uber convenient fish fingers in the freezer. I've refused when Ava has demanded with pointed fingers that she wants access to the biscuit tin. And my attention during bath time has been second to none. No iPhone or glass of wine in sight.

And then other days you sit down and you just think 'fuck'. 

Some days (usually when my hours of sleep are less than 6 ) - I am tired and frustrated and I snap. I get annoyed over silly things and then I overcompensate with hugs and kisses that are batted away with similar frustration. She won't eat her lunch. She won't go for her nap. She's drawing on those walls no matter what you damn well tell her. 

Some days you feel like the worst Mummy in the world. Like nothing you do is actually right. So you just sort of give in. You won't nap? Well then fine just stay up. But it's both of us who will be crying by 4pm. You won't eat your avocado and houmous sandwich with accompanying fruit salad? Well then what do I care? Just have a biscuit because I don't want to argue. Especially not with a 19 month old whose only line of defence is to throw the contents of her lunch over the high chair. 

Ava refused to nap the other day. Point blank refused. After much toing and froing I eventually gave up. And I thought - you know what? You're a little person. With little thoughts and opinions and rights. If you don't want to sleep then who the hell am I to make you?

 So we got our stuff together. We made a shopping list and then we headed to the supermarket. And you know what? She fell asleep just as we pulled into a parking space. And I couldn't wake her. Because the good mum always wins over the frustrated mum. So I just did what any other over-whelmed, self-indulgent and exhausted mother would do. I sat in the car and I cried. Then I drove around for a while and I cried. 

Then Ava woke up. And we went to soft play. And we were fine.

Those days are rubbish. No matter who you are or what your situation. Those days are a bit more rubbish when you have them on your own. I'm not on my own. Far from it. But Ava & I are flying solo now for 3 weeks of every month and it's tough sometimes. Sometimes we miss Daddy. A lot.

Today actually isn't one of those days. I've been working and she has been at my sisters where she seems to have had a whale of a time. We've had tons of cuddles and giggles since I got her back and I've just tucked her up into bed. But she wouldn't go to sleep. And last night I had no sleep. So I really kinda needed her to go to sleep. So I went through and I held her. And all the usual frustration and tiredness and desperation just kinda melted away. And what was usually a five minute cuddle then a rapid sprint out of the room became a 20 minute swaying session. And I think it was me cuddling her more than the other way around.

And now she's asleep. And I'm drinking red and writing on the computer. I haven't eaten in 23 hours and I only got 4 hours kip last night. But you know what? I don't mind. 

Cause it's all good. 

It really is.