I would like to be able to tell you that I am one of those perpetually peaceful people who seem to radiate a slightly smug contentedness from deep within their soul. I would like to be able to tell you that I write in a gratitude diary every day, right after my 6am Yogalates session and bowl of organic muesli. I would like to be able to tell you that I am able to handle anything my children throw at me – figuratively speaking – because I am inherently calm and happy and balanced. I would like to be able to tell you I’m like that because I would like to be like that but the thing is, I’m not. Maybe in a parallel universe, but not this one. I’m just not good at relaxing. During the birth of my second daughter, I tried very hard to breathe deeply through the contractions, to focus my energies inward and breathe the pain out. My husband later told me that I sounded like a horse.

In this universe, I’m just your average, garden-variety ineffective parent whose favourite method for calming down involves a large glass of shiraz and an even larger block of chocolate, and whose body would simply snap in half if made to do the downward dog.

When my mother was a stay-at-home-mother of four she went to yoga classes once a week – we used to say she was going to Yoghurt Classes – and she once told me that yoga saved her sanity in those days. So one day I went to a yoga class for new mothers and stretched for about 50 minutes before being told to lie down and listen to the lovely music and breathe deeply and just as I felt the tension melt away and the thoughts leave my troubled mind and just as I reached that state of blissful contentment… I fell asleep. I might have snored. Well, at least I didn’t neigh.

I really love the idea of meditation, but although I have tried I just can’t do it without the snoring. So, like all good mothers, I am living the life of a calm and contented human being vicariously through my children. My kids are learning to meditate. In our house, every day ends with reading from a book called The Wishing Star: Meditations for Children by Marneta Viegas. There’s a good reason why this is a good thing.

Both my girls have Anger Management Issues and I’m entirely responsible. I would like to be able to tell you that I am a slightly smug and contented person with nary a cranky bone in my body but that would be lying. I do have a cranky bone in my body, and I suspect it might be one of the big ones. Like the femur. Or pelvis. I have a cranky pelvis on account of all the kids I’ve birthed. They were both posterior, so it makes sense really. My pelvis has a lot to be cranky about. Anyway my point is that every now and then I get a bit cranky and I wish I could clear my mind of all my negative, cranky thoughts and just calm the heck down (without falling asleep) and I also wish that I hadn’t passed on my cranky pelvis gene to my kids. I have a tendency to fly off the handle a little and maybe raise my voice from time to time and yes, I’ve been known to slam the odd door in frustration. And sometimes they slam the door too. They inherited their father’s nice straight nose, they got my Issues. Whenever Ella yells at Madeleine I cringe a little because I know that she learned that behaviour from me. And when Madeleine yells back at her I know she got that from me too. It’s cute, really, how alike we all are.

I am a firm believer in meditation and all that positive-visualisation stuff. I’m not a religious person so I don’t pray. I suspect that a lot of people who do pray to a God or some other Higher Being get some of the same benefits of people who meditate regularly. It’s doing something good for your soul, isn’t it? I believe that spending some time each day just clearing your mind of negativity and instead filling your heart with peace is good for you, good for your relationships and good for the earth. The thing I’ve always said I want for my kids, more than anything else, is for them to be happy. I can give them love and stuff and food and pony rides and all of these things will make them happy but true happiness must come from within and…

… and I’m starting to sound a little preachy. Sorry ‘bout that.

The bottom line is that I feel more than a little bit responsible for making them short-tempered cranky-pants and so it’s my responsibility to help them find some peace. This is why I got the Meditations for Kids book. At bedtime, after we’ve tucked them in, I read one of the meditations and they go off to sleep all calm and at peace, dreaming about rainbows and fairies and clouds. And my last contact with them at the end of the day is positive and happy, which is lovely for all of us. I hope that they will both grow up to be the sort of people who don’t throw tantrums and slam doors like their mother did. And I hope they don’t have odd-shaped pelvises and babies that want to come out the wrong way up.

Oh, and I hope that when they find their inner peace, they don’t disturb everyone else with their snoring and neighing.