There comes a point as a mother, when the days are too hard and too long and you wonder how you’re going to get through them. When you stand under the shower and dread having to get out and look at the mess that was caused while you washed your hair and scoured the dirt from your fingernails (you selfish bitch).
When you know that someone needs to take over, because if you yell anymore, you’re going to lose your voice and while the lack of yelling seems maybe preferable, then they go and do something else and TIME OUT screams out of your mouth before you can stop it and you’re left swearing at an empty room, while you clean up things, a-fucking-gain.
When you wake up to an entire tin (a new tin) of drinking chocolate tipped on the floor, and the washing has been tipped out of the baskets so that the baskets can be used for climbing on, and paint is open on your computer one hundred times and you think that maybe some emails have been deleted, but you can’t tell and you wonder – how did all this happen while I was only 10 metres away? how silently does she move, so as not to wake me?
You seriously consider putting locks on the kitchen taps, but how the fuck do you lock a tap and TURN THE GODDAMNED WATER OFF and you’re swearing and she runs away, not crying, but trying to avoid the yelling. Only she pulls all the insides out of the textas and draws on the walls with them and how many hours until bedtime?
When you’re 3 steps behind her all day, trying to maintain the chaos while your head wants to explode and you kind of wish you owned a jumping castle (with a lockable door) so you could throw her in there and leave her to bounce off the walls, somewhere that wasn’t quite so destructive.
And she sings the same 10 words over and over for 30 minutes until your head wants to explode and you snap and she screams at you BUT I AM TRYING TO SING and goes back to what she was doing and you wonder how the fuck you’re meant to get through this, why me? why us?
And you want to run away, outside, with your camera maybe, or a block of chocolate and some ear muffs, so that you can’t hear the strangled screaming from inside the house when the children notice that you’re gone and want to hang around your neck. But you can’t, because the mayhem and destruction aren’t worth it.
***
There is something I’m meant to be doing today, something nice, something that will save my sanity, by allowing me to sit with other mothers and drop the ball just a little while she fails to complete anything set in front of her. I don’t want to. I don’t want to take her out of the house because all I’ve done is yell and all she’s done is tip out drinking chocolate and upend bookshelves and hit her brother and destroy everything and send me insane.
But I will wrestle her into the shower and I will force her to get dressed and have her hair brushed and get in the car and I will ignore the screams until eventually, we will be somewhere else and yet again, I won’t be getting anything done that needs doing, but I won’t be killing my children and that’s always a bonus, right? And the other mothers will recognise that tiny piece of insanity in my eyes and smile at us, knowing that they’ve been here too.
All of that.
We’ve been there too.
Hugs. xx
Been there. Hope you have a better day tomorrow.
Yes. Yes, yes. It crowds my brain sometimes so much that my temples and forehead feel tighter. Like there’s a pressure valve needing release. And sometimes, getting out only makes it worse because it’s all there when you get home. But hopefully, that change of scene is what you needed today to crack the window open and let the air in a little for your sanity’s sake. I feel for your tremendously xox
Hugs.
You are not alone.
I hope getting out for a bit eases the pain.
Have you been in my head? Cause I swear they’re my thoughts..
Hugs xo
You forgot the bit about trying to shake the toddler off your leg when you are busting for a wee and are having trouble getting your trousers down because said toddler is using them as a ladder. And I think you forgot the bit where your partner wants a hug and all you want to do is scream at him don’t fucking touch me because you have had someone clinging to you all day. 🙂
yep that sounds about right
Every day you get through is a bonus and a small miracle. Mine is a different cross but I get it, I so get it. Sending love, xo
Uh huh. I know.
(((hugs))) We onestepawayfrominsanity mothers have to stick together, right? xxx
I can usually manage to hold it together by a thread— a THIN thread— through all of the above…
Right up until some doe-eyed mother prances up to me and says, “Don’t you just LOVE being a mother? Isn’t it SO FULFILLING?”, and then stares at me, waiting for my response.
That’s usually when I lose it.
Peace, sister. I think that’s why God invented dreams— so even when your body is stuck in mundane torture, you can still do all sorts of cool stuff that doesn’t revolve around cleaning and disciplining.
PS: As always, excellent writing. Oh, and as an FYI— I recently went back and toured your archives. I thought you’d be interested to know that your writing is visibly improving, which is amazing considering that you were “A” quality in the beginning. So, on those days when you’re ready to scratch out your eardrums for two minutes of blessed peace, at least you can comfort yourself with the fact that you’ve been accomplishing something other than just plain surviving.
Just blog-hopping by from Aussie Mummy Bloggers and wanted to send you some love. Reading some of your posts and am very touched by what you are going through. Thought you might be interested in my friend Cecily’s blog http://cecilypaterson.squarespace.com/ as she has a son who is on the autistic spectrum who is 6 and she has three other children (ranging from 3mths to 12yo).
love,
Sophiex
Been there of course. My heart goes to you. Hang on there!
Comments on this entry are closed.
{ 1 trackback }