To the lady who came over to us in a restaurant and complimented the twins on how good they were sitting eating their dinner.

To the new parents who came across the park to me one summer to tell me they couldn’t wait to be like us and have a little picnic in the sun together with their newborn girl.

To the truck driver who beeps his truck horn for the kids.

To the shop assistant who patiently takes the loyalty cards from the twins.

To the woman who gave me ‘the look’ of encouragement as I tore down the shopping mall after a runaway twin.

To all the other parents who get it and have been in my shoes.

I draw on those memories when I try to block out the tuts and sighs that came from behind me in the supermarket line recently.

To the people in the queue;

Those few minutes that you lost and practised your best ‘loud breathing’ whilst I sweated and stressed trying to keep my children from injuring themselves in their attempts to hurtle out of the trolley. I completely get those minutes were probably important to you. They were important to me too.

What you may not have seen before I tried to singlehandedly pack my shopping, enter a pin correctly, restrain my kids and get the receipt in order to calm one child who was screaming, was the three people with single items that I had let skip me in the queue .

Maybe if I hadn’t let them skip ahead of me my childrens’ time limit in the trolley might not have expired.

You probably don’t know, or maybe didn’t care because I couldn’t turn my face around to eyeball you, was that I felt like absolute shite as embarrassment, tiredness and stress took hold.

You don’t know or probably don’t care that I had done a days work on minutes of sleep due to a sick little girl the night before. I wasn’t at my best that day.

I get it you had places to be, you may have been up all night too, who knows, but when did you lose empathy and compassion for others?  In fact you probably would have sighed more had you seen my gesture to those with small baskets!

I tried to shake it off, but sleep deprivation does funny things to the emotions and I’ll feel bad for a while to come that I wasn’t my best at home that evening, and that’s not fair either.

So:

To the bleary eyed parents exhausted in those early weeks.

To the parent who can’t stop crying.

To those who can’t feed successfully.

To those who can’t go out the door.

To those who get out the door and want to go straight back in.

To those who cry for no reason.

To those who feel the walls are caving in.

To those who can’t remember their names.

To those who can’t hold a decent conversation.

To those who worry for their children all the time.

To those who can’t see the light.

To those who are alone.

To the flustered parents on the plane.

To the woman at the till.

Find a kind pair of eyes; they are there if you can look past the negative.

Bad moments and days will happen in all aspects of life and you won’t always feel like you are on top, but that shows you care.

Don’t let it consume you, and reach out to someone if you feel like it is. You will have many more shite moments to come, cry if you need to and then dust yourself down, because you are not alone x