Lockdown has taught me what it means to be a good parent – it isn’t what I thought
My kids don’t need me to morph into their teacher, writes Gillian Harvey. They need confidence that their Mum isn’t going to spontaneously combust
After struggling with fertility for a few years, by the time my kids came along I’d had plenty of time to fantasise about what sort of mother I’d be. I wanted to be perfect – to make their childhood as idyllic as I could.
That’s easy enough when all you have is a bump and a dream. But by the time my fifth child, Robbie, was born, life was a whole lot more complicated. Even before lockdown, I would be constantly plagued by the feeling that I could be doing it better: was I giving them enough opportunities? Reading to them enough? Arranging too many playdates, or too few?
When lockdown hit and each of my five children was provided with a ton of work to get through, my stress levels soared. Having the kids at home 24/7 can be tricky at the best of times – juggling constant requests for food and complaints of boredom while trying to work is hard enough, so how on earth could I become their teacher, too?
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