A good enough mother

I really don't think I will ever be a good enough mother. I think years of infertility planted this seed. Perhaps I was never meant to have kids. Don't get me wrong, I adore I&J, I really do, but it is painful looking at them and seeing traits of their father.

This will be brief as it is late. J turns 7 today (yep it is that time.) He asked for a square cake with a 7 traced in smarties on top. Of course when I go to bake this cake at 9.30 tonight I can't find the right sized square tin. So I use the round one. It comes out perfectly. It is so soft to touch all around. I turn it out carefully after 10 minutes onto a wire rack. I wait an hour for it to cool. I whip up a batch of chocolate butter cream icing. I ice the cake and as I go to take the baking paper out that is stopping the board from getting covered in icing, it slips and falls onto the floor. I cannot salvage it. Perhaps as a trifle sponge, but with the icing I don't think even that will work.

So at 12.15am I whip up a batch of patty cakes. We had this debate. He doesn't want patty cakes. I just hope I won't be too tired when I wake up to not simply burst into tears when he chucks a tantrum. Am I allowed to admit he chucks tantrums? I think he is borderline ADHD, but I can't really admit this. He is 'spirited' I say. What a fucking euphemism. If he wakes up in an ok mood he might accept patty cakes. Otherwise his birthday will start with tears.

Memories now of 8-10 years ago when I regularly survived on less sleep than I am getting now. Life as a sole parent sucks, but I suppose I have been doing it for so long that it is second nature almost. I can put on a smile to colleagues. I can joke and have a laugh, but deep down I am just sad.