I have two healthy, beautiful, loving children that are safe and free of unnecessary suffering. That in itself is the ultimate blessing. They are their own individuals, with a personality that is flourishing, and are learning by the minute. How could I possibly complain? The audacity. It's disappointing. It's childish and selfish. Here is where the guilt plays a role. The kids are in daycare full time. I work from home and get enough "me" time. There are three, yes, a mere three hours from the time the kids get home and their bedtime. For me to complain or to feel overwhelmed is a disgrace.
Here's what goes down during that time block. Kids get home, lots of hugs and kisses, dinner is served, and either all goes well, or all goes to hell in a matter of seconds. Here is how an evening of pure frustration plays out. During dinner time the four-year-old gags because he hates the meal I made. In this example, it was a simple chicken casserole. He starts crying. While on the other hand the one-year-old sees cookies from the night before and is throwing a tantrum to have a cookie before dinner. I manage to get her to forget about the cookie long enough to sit her in my lap and have her try the casserole. Mouth wide open -- she spits it out. All over me. The dinner I made just went to shit. And mind you, I loved it. Okay. So, I say eff it. Eat the effing cookie (in my head of course). Give them both cookies. Have at it (!) is what I think to shut down the whining and crying.
I then go to plan b. Leftover pasta with meat sauce. Heat it up with the little one on one hip because she throws a fit if I don't hold her. I serve the second dinner with one hand. All is good for five minutes. Dinner is over. I take one phone call which drives the little one insane. She is tugging and throwing a tantrum to get me off. Okay. She succeeds. I have to hold her and stand up because if I don't she throws a tantrum. That's not cutting it -- she is still complaining.
Okay. Nothing else is working. The little one is hasty and unsatisfied, so bath time it is. The little one throws her fit in the beginning. Negotiating goes on. I talk her into getting into the bath. All is good.
I take the little one out, and she cries the whole time I'm putting her diaper on. I get her diaper on and PJs. The task is done. It's now 7:45 and her bedtime is 8. There goes the evening.
The little one goes down to sleep, and all settles down. But even then, it's not satisfying because I realize that gosh this was an evening filled with whining, unpleasant feelings, and defeat. An unsuccessful night with no bonding, no quality dinner time, and nothing but struggle hour after hour.
That sums it up. I wonder, does this resonant with anyone else? I just think of the modern day moms out there that have three kids. Their first two must have been a walk in the park for them to consider #3 and then you have the mothers who keep going after #3. Wow, they must be saints. The best moms out there and in the end a much better mother than me. (Insert sad face here).
My sister, Katie, said, "You're just having a bad day. Think of three things that you have recently done that you're proud of as a mother." Her words were the perfect reminder to pull me out of the vicious negative self-talk and poisonous comparison and get back to treating myself with love so that I can shift my perspective. And then I received a very loving follow-up text from her that brought me to tears. Just what I needed to hear in a vulnerable moment of feeling like a bad mom.
I don't like to end these type of vent sessions without a suggestion for those that can relate to what I'm sharing. So, the next time you feel this way, take a moment to remind yourself that you are a good mother, you are loving, the tantrums will subside, just ride out the rough waves. It's just an off day. Try your best to go through the motions without exploding so that you don't add another layer of guilt on top of what already may exist. And if you need outside support, give someone a call that will not place judgment, make it about them, or try to analyze why the kids were acting this way. Vent to someone who loves you and believes in you. If you don't have an outlet -- take a moment to write away or meditate (once the kids go to bed) and welcome the emotions that may come to the surface.
I came across these two quotes that I found to be so fitting:
"Repeat after me, I am not a bad mom. I am a good mom, having a rough day."
"Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder." Rumi
I wish you and your kids well being, good health, protection and more good days than bad.
Growing and sharing...