There are many moments of bad parenting.
For me, they start with the naughty step.
The reality for me is the children go there when we both need time out.
Yes, they have, in my eyes, poorly behaved, but I know I need the time too.
I live with that.
I've resolved myself to the parenting ideals I wanted, and the ones we live with.
I have my trump card.
I've coped with three children under two.
I've loved three children under two.
Yesterday I lived with my bad parenting.
I wasn't there.
My daughter started year 1.
My sons returned to playschool and nursery.
I neither dropped them off, nor had the opportunity to shed a tear.
(Apart from the ones of self-pity).
Nor had a chance to revel in the happiness as they finished for the day.
I did not have a chance to put my sons to bed.
And talk about their day.
Yesterday was my first time.
The first time my work has knowingly compromised my parenting.
I have missed the odd thing.
After school club 'performances'.
The beginning or end of assembly and sports days.
But I have managed to be there.
For them to know I am there if they need me.
Yesterday I 'had' to be in London.
And these were the photos I was fortunate enough to receive from Mr J.
I know we're lucky that one of us is a stay-at-home parent.
I know I'm lucky that I've managed to 'manage' my diary until now.
I am absolutely gutted I missed these moments.
Life as a working mum sucks.