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Thursday, 3 July 2014


I thought about it a lot when I was expecting my first child. The core of parenthood. And before she was born, I strongly believed it was love, understanding, joy.
I was completely wrong.
It's guilt. A parent feels guilty most of the time. When they loose their temper. When they hurry their child because they want to be at work on time, at once. When they stroke little sleepy head, and sing a lullaby, thinking of few awful things they said today to the blood of their blood. When they see them grow and becoming more independent each day, and they wish they did better, showed more they loved, laughed louder with them.
Ok, more lines like these, and I start to cry. Silly:)

Today I was not the best of mums, I did not bit my tongue (at least twice), and was seriously counting to 10, which for me is the ultimate sign something is rotten.
However, I managed to smile, and cuddle, and tickle, and talk (a lot; not a rocket science for me).
And I said sorry for being rough, which is what I would expect my 5-year old to do herself.
And felt guilty only few times.

Usual day in da family.
(Almost. I could have bit my tongue, really...)

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