Today I am feeling like a terrible mummy. This morning has been a perfect example of why having three children so young is so hard. I love my children dearly but on days like today they test my patience to the limit, my imagination to the full and most of all they tug so very hard on the strings of my heart.

I am not complaining, I am really not. I know there are people who are in much worse situations than me but I need to let off steam, to tell my tale and try not to feel so very disappointed in me.

Esther is really very poorly today. She is very snotty, all bunged up and hoarse with a cough. She can not do anything without crying. She is really very poor and just does not know what to do with herself. What she really needs is to be wrapped up in a loving warm hug, cosy in her mummy’s arms to have a sofa day. Together we should be watching TV, reading stories and eating restorative snacks. Of course though, I cannot do that because I have a healthy, lively William who wants to be outside and playing on this glorious sunny day. He wants more water in the water table, his car mat and cars outside, to search the fgarden for the Ninky Nonk and to be pushed on the swing. He needs me too to help with all of these things.

And so, I help William the best that I can, talk to him as he plays, whilst also trying to soothe and cuddle Esther, reassure her and help her decide what she does or does not want to do.

And all the time I am feeling guilty because I know if there was only one what I would do. The cuddles for Esther, for William more play. I know what both of my children need and I cannot give it to them, I am not being a good mummy for either of them and so I start to feel increasing frustrated and cross and disappointed in me.

And all of this is before we get to the Baby.

Baby Tilda who needs holding, feeding, entertaining, changing and soothing to sleep. Matilda is not a fan of the sunshine so I am trying to keep her shaded while laying outside in the sun with William.

On top of all of this my heart is breaking as I hear the tone of my voice changing and I know that David is listening and whoever else might be visiting our house.

I feel myself getting more and more frustrated that I am their mummy and I cannot give them everything they need. Not something so simple as my full attention when they are feeling so poor! I hate feeling so useless. So powerless.

As I write this Esther is crying herself to the sleep that she so desperately needs, William seems lost without her but is playing on regardless while I try to make some sense of what is happening by writing it down in the shade of a tree, eating cheesy biscuits, with Matilda playing by my side.

I am so lucky to have three beautiful children I adore but some days just seem to be so hard and I feel so lonely and so helpless as a big bad mummy who cannot give her children what they need and cannot seem to do anything right.

I am so disappointed in me!