His scream makes me want to claw my eyes out. His anger, thrown out into the world; loud and defiant. Screaming his only way to express himself. He’s been thwarted from his goal and I am the target, the person who denies him what he wants. He screams again and I can almost feel the blood dripping from my ears, pooling around my shoulders.
The stress starts building and I can feel myself tightening up. I take a deep breath and drop to the ground beside him. Rolling him over, his fists flail at me, angry still. I bend and kiss his stomach; he giggles. I kiss him more and the laughter builds.
It doesn’t take him long to forget he was angry.
If only we were all as immediate.
***
I’m working. I say. Leave me be.
***
We come home from a day out at the supermarket. He brings in the bags and helps me unpack everything. Then he breezes outside, taking his cigarettes and his newspaper with him. He’s gone to have his half an hour unwind time. I’m left inside with two hungry tired children, fielding questions and grabbiness equally. I cook dinner with one child on my hip and another screeching at me from the floor. I throw crackers to the baby and pretend it doesn’t feel strange, willing him to not fall apart until I can get everything in place.
He can’t of course, he’s just a baby, and I’m left juggling. All my balls in the air ready to fall on our heads while he sits outside, alone, unconcerned.
I knock on the window, babe in arms and beckon him inside. He comes in, so hard done by, sighing.
The anger wells up in my throat.
When is it my time to have half an hour to do nothing?
***
I crave the silence.
I imagine it washing over me like a wave, sucking me down into it. A deep kiss of silence, drowning me in it’s grasp. Engulfing me and making me silent too.
***
I hid today. From my children. I hid and then I felt guilty about it as my daughter searched for me and I couldn’t bring myself to come out. I hid, wishing I were alone.
Just for a moment.
Then I walked out of the dark room. Back into the light and the noise. After the quiet dark, everything was a little more piercing.
But it was a little more beautiful too.
But it was a little more beautiful too-oh god, yes. I sometimes feel like I am the worst mother because I’ll be playing with them but I will be somewhere else. I will be checking my e-mail, resentful that I just don’t have an hour or two for myself. And, how selfish since I work full-time. I love this piece.
Any comment that I write feels stilted and forced, compared to the beautiful symmetry of your words..
I know that feeling hon – hits very close to home.
Also, yeah… what your Mammy said^^ 😉
How did I miss this???
I do that, hide from them. Sigh.
I’ve been there. But could never have written it so well, stunning writing.
This is gorgeous. A deep kiss of silence.
Yes, I hide too. Often in the shower. Sometimes even after the water is turned off. Bliss.
Does it help for you to write about it? I find it does wonders for me. I love it how you say you are not the best mum but you are the best mum for YOUR kids. I agree!
beautifully written! oh the unbearable joy of motherhood, it would not be complete without the healthy does of guilt thrown into the mix.
You put it all so well, into words that so many of us feel but don’t acknowledge or pretend that we don’t. My little man has been pretty sick lately and when he’s awake its an almost constant Mamma mamma mamma if he’s not on my lap or hip, and I feel so guilty for just wanting 2min to have a cuppa or a bathroom break! Thank-you for your post!
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