Even though I do my best to portray confidence (inside and out), stand up for myself, and be true to my ethics – patience is something I run short on in an awful hurry.

My lack of patience is mainly geared toward my daughter. She’s seven. She really is a good kid, compared to other boys and girls her age – and we all, as parents (especially mothers), compare our children’s behaviour, intellect, attitude – you name it – to others their age.

“Patience is a super power.”

– Says every mother. Ever.

She doesn’t listen. And by that I mean that she doesn’t absorb what we tell her. She doesn’t learn from consequence and grow from mistakes. I’m sure it’s just a phase, but this is really frustrating for me and my husband.

We’ve tried every approach we can think of: heart-to-heart talks, deep conversations of experience, yelling and screaming … it really does not seem to matter. We’ve resolved to letting her (to a certain extent) make her own decisions and see if she actually learns anything in the process.

Recently, while making dinner, she wanted to help. Ok. While stirring a pan of pad thai, a hot noodle landed on her hand. It didn’t necessarily burn her, but I’m sure it hurt and just maybe she understood when we told her that the element, food, range, spoon – was hot!

It’s this type of experience that we’re hoping she’ll learn from listening to our advice, instruction, and from our experience.

My daughter pushes all of my buttons, all at once, and really hard! She and I butt heads constantly and she will argue with my about everything. What we’re eating, what she’s wearing, where we’re going, and how she’s behaving.

My husband really hates this. So much so, he will take her out of the house so I have some time to myself and he doesn’t have to hear us bicker back and forth. If we’re already at each now, I can’t imagine what’s gonna happen when she’s a teenager.

Perhaps I’ve got a slight case of OCD, but I really hate messes. I seem to spend forever putting everything back in it’s place after work, each morning, and every weekend. I try to organize, declutter, and have everything in it’s own place. But everything seems to go awry. Now, I realize that this is how a household with children naturally operates. Toys on the floor, dishes all over, clothes scattered – but I hate it!

Where this gets even worse, is that my daughter (currently anyways) is the laziest little girl I’ve met. Wrappers and dishes left where ever. Board games, toys, dolls, those fucking LOL things – left everywhere in the house. And when you ask her to pick up after herself, she whines. “Oh, it’s too much to do all by myself. Will you help me?” or “I’ll get it later.”

Our daughter getting dressed is another production in our house. I’ve tried to get her to pick out her clothes for the next day, especially during the week, but that just doesn’t happen. She wears mis-matched colours and patterns, chooses out-of-season outfits, and will change her mind three times before finally deciding on an ensemble. To make matter worse, the clothes she’s vetoed for the day get thrown on the floor, crumpled into her drawer, or tossed in the laundry basket. The amount of water wasted on re-washing clean clothes astounds me.

Last but not least – she’s a whiner. I hate whining. More often than not, even asking for a drink or snack is done so in a high-pitched-baby-talk-nails-on-a-chalkboard fucking whine.

That is what really gets me. All of the above habits get under my skin and irritate the crap out of me. But the whining is what puts me over the edge. The whining will cause me to inevitably lose my shit in a big way. The whining can ruin a weekend outing in an awful hurry. The whining cancels play dates, gets treats and gifts returned, and even gets her birthday party revoked.

You read that right. A couple of years ago, she was in such a bad whining period that I took away her 5th birthday party. Family, friends, even my husband, disagreed with this, saying that I was taking the matter too far. But you know what? Birthday parties are a privilege – not a right. The same goes for lunch out, cool shoes, visits to the park, and new crafting supplies. My daughter can have such a sense of entitlement at times that she doesn’t realize that all the fun stuff doesn’t happen if she is being a shithead.

I sometimes feel like I’m missing an important mom gene in that I don’t have enough patience for my daughter. That I can handle her better once I’ve downed a glass of wine. That my husband has much more patience with her than I do. I would do anything for my little girl. I would honestly die for her if it came right down to it. But, I really feel like a bad mother at times.

But I’m sure every mother questions their own selves and abilities when it comes to mothering at some point. Tell me I’m not alone.