Today has been a bad day and despite the fact I do love my children, I don't want to be their mum today.

It began with a simple request for my sons to make their beds and brush their teeth.

They said no.

In fact, they said no to everything that was requested of them.

Day one of school holidays and they seem to think they don't have to lift a finger, not even for personal hygiene.

As I rant and rave, my husband growls at me for all the noise.

Now I have a headache.

We head to the swimming pool to meet friends, one of whom has had a birthday.

For over a week her present has sat on the kitchen bench, but of course in all the drama I forget to grab it.

So back home I go. Get the present. Back to the pool.

Now I have left all the swimming toys in the car. Back to the car in the rain to get them.

Now my kids are swimming and they are happy.

The other mums are also swimming with their children.

I can't swim because I didn't have enough time to shave my legs, so I sit by myself thinking I don't want to be a mother today.

And you know what, it's okay to think like that sometimes.

While society makes us feel that we should always be floating around on a cloud of happiness at the privilege of being a mum, that's just not reality.

It's the most thankless, confusing, badly paid, 24-hour-a-day job going around.

Our kids just won't realise what we do for them until they have kids. And then, like I had to with my mother - they will come, weeping with exhaustion and say they are sorry for being such little poops.

But by then ... it's too late.

My hair is streaked with grey, I only wear running shoes, my make up is applied in the rear-view mirror in the car and at times I drink too much wine.

We can't beat ourselves up when we feel this way.

The good news is it usually passes, but being honest about how tough it can be makes us feel less alone in those moments.

Sitting on canteen duty recently, a beautiful friend plopped herself down in the chair next to me, turned her face towards me and asked if I ever hated my children. I said yes.

It is such a blessing to listen to other mums who are prepared to be honest, and an even bigger blessing that when you vent, you are not judged.

It lets us know we are not alone.

We are not abnormal, and our children are not abnormal.

Maybe tomorrow I'll feel like being a mum again.