Saturday 12 April 2014

Bad Mum...?

So today is Saturday.

I'm on a "Blogger Holiday" with the girlies for the weekend.

We have cake.
We have good food.
We have alcohol...lots of alcohol...

So why I hear you ask, am I feeling a teeny bit mean today?

Well, I kind of feel a little bit bad that I'm missing out on a few of the "new" things my beautiful son is doing today.

I feel that I really should have been with him at 10am to cheer him on with "Badge Day" at his swimming lesson - I mean he's been desperate for this badge for such a long time now....

I feel that I really should be with him at 12pm when he goes to have some professional photographs taken for his first ever photo shoot, and especially because these photographs will be the shots used for the modelling agency he has very recently been signed up to.

So yeah, I feel a tad terrible really.

But I know he'll be fine - Dad is there with him, and he's probably loving the fact he can trash his room for a few days without me telling him to tidy it up.

Plus, in the grand scheme of things I suppose both activities are only for a grand total of 1 1/4 hours out of the whole day...
And I'll be seeing those important photographs ASAP today too.

Still, I do wish I was there, and I suppose as a Mum, this is a natural reaction - it's not one I'm used to though because I'm usually at everything he does.

I'm not used to being the parent not involved which I suppose has made the guilt kick in a little.
I know it is silly really, but I just can't help it.

I would really love to be there.

However - when I think about it, it's not as though I regularly head off on my own.  In fact I think this is possibly one of the longest times I have been away from my beautiful boy.

And I'm only going to be away for two and a half days and three nights.

And I made sure everything was A-OK before I left - the shopping was done, the washing was done, I even organised each outfit for the photography shoot, right down to the correct shoes being placed in a bag around the coat hanger of each correct outfit.

Everything was together, organised and I suppose, just how I would have had it.

I know The Husband will manage brilliantly, and I know my son will have a great time, and I know I should stop being silly and just enjoy myself.

Which I am doing of course.

But a Mum's work is never done I suppose

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