The title of this post has been rattling around my brain for a few weeks now but I hesitated writing it because I didn’t want to admit – I’m not the mom I want to be.

The mom I want to be doesn’t get frustrated so easily.
The mom I want to be has more patience.
The mom I want to be doesn’t yell.
The mom I want to be accepts that “he’s just three” is a reasonable explanation.
The mom I want to be has time to clean the house.
The mom I want to be knows how to get the stove top as clean as her mother in law does.
The mom I want to be doesn’t swear under her breath at other drivers.
The mom I want to be has boobs that sit somewhere above the bottom of her rib cage.

I can control almost all of these, and with the right bra I could probably control all of them. The right bra can fix a lot of things.

But seriously, I yell more than I want to. Sometimes volume is a tactic to break through the three year old fog that envelops the little man when he’s doing something he shouldn’t and WILL. NOT. STOP. But sometimes volume is a result of exhaustion, frustration and emotion.

The lesson of the day is impulse control. I’m trying to get the little man to stop and think before he pushes/kicks/hits his baby sister, taking the time to pause before he does what he’s invariably about to do. And I am doing my darndest to do the same thing before I raise my voice.

I’m not SO far from the mom I want to be. I’m by no means a lost cause. I think I’m a pretty good mom when it comes down to it, I just want to work on the patience thing. Maybe I will count to three for myself as well as for him. Sometimes Mummy needs a time out.

And a new bra.

Then maybe I will be the mom I want to be.