Guilt

My youngest child starts full time school in September, which is in part the reason I've started this blog. I've been lucky enough to be a stay at home mum for the past seven years. That's consisted of an incredible amount of messy, craft based play, local parks, soft play and budgeting like a mad woman (I can feed the 4 of us for £65 a week).

It's been amazing, challenging, fun and all-consuming.  Now I'm entering into a phase where I'll have me-time. I know I need to create an income somehow but first I need to try and follow my passion. That's writing (and sarcasm and crocheting, but mainly writing). Now is my chance to have a crack at it. So here we go.

However, with the idea of me-time comes reflection and introspection.  With me, that comes in the form of guilt. Have I made the best of every day with my kids? Did I make the right decision to stay a home with them? And as always, out of self-reflection comes poetry...

Guilt

Did I spend enough time with you?

Give you room to grow?

Did I let you find out for yourself

The things you need to know?

Was I dismissive when I should have listened?

Did I smother you with affection?

Can you tell me?

Did you get too much

Or too little of my attention?

Did I buy you far too many toys?

Should we have gone to more places?

Are you happy with just trips to the park

And lots of warm embraces?

Or should I have worked

Left you with another

And earned lots of money

Like a good working mother?

To take you to theme parks and on holiday

Would you have preferred me to go or to stay?

Did we do enough painting and drawings and craft?

Was I too serious?

Was I to daft?

I am guilty of caring and loving too much

I am insecure. And scared (more than a touch)

That you do not know how much

You are loved