Photo on 17-01-2016 at 8.49 pm #2 #2

Shit. I cannot believe that just happened again. Why didn’t I close my mouth and breathe?

Master X had been screaming since we got home from an afternoon of grocery shopping. Sounds nice. But grocery shopping is hell, we hate doing it. We try to buy as much as possible so that we only have to go once a month and then only need to do little fresh food shops in between. Needless to say that we were all tired. Master X was especially tired. I took my medication an hour late. But surely that should not have mattered a great deal? What is sixty minutes  in the scope of twenty-four hours?

I was on fire in the kitchen. Not literally, but my head was very focussed on getting all the jobs done for tomorrow, for the coming week. I prepared breakfasts, dinner for tonight, and cut salad items for lunches, steamed some snacks… That new Ninja bullet from my bestie for Christmas is a winner. I was on a roll. It took me about three hours to get everything prepared, and all of us fed.

I am shredding the roast chicken from Coles, the juices are dripping off my fingers. Mr. A is feeding Master X his cereal and formula bottle

What? Oh, well, if he doesn’t want his cereal and his is… What?… What kind of towel do you need?… He is a baby!… I have chicken all over my hands…

I walk over to Mr. A with the wooden pole thing that holds the paper towels madly gripped between my wrists, trying to be careful not to contaminate the paper with my chicken hands. Well, that was the illusion that I wanted to create when in truth I was thinking ‘I’m not getting you a towel and I am going to hold the paper towels like this to make you feel bad for putting me out. Don’t you know how much work I am trying to get done?!?!’

I reach Mr. A, hand him the roll thingy and indignantly declare ‘well I’d have to get it on my own to clean up the mess when you’re at work’.

Yeah, R such a hero.

So really, I only managed to feed the adults. It took Master X over two hours to stop screaming after Mr. A attempted to feed him. He is in bed now.

After I screamed for him to shut up. I lost my shit. I was overwhelmed. I have done way too much today. I believe there was even a stomp of the foot. My voice was definitely shrill. And there were an array of cuss words.

I am so ashamed that I lost my shit that I don’t even know if I am going to make this public. It is not okay. Why is it that I don’t see the signs until it is too late? How can I develop better managing strategies?

Why am I failing at the most important job of my life? Being a role model?

I tried swimming this morning. I say tried because the water felt like mud. Or perhaps it was my heavy body. Either way it was near impossible to pull my body through the water. I usually kind of enjoy swimming, but this morning was not the case. I felt more cloudy when I finished my mandatory ten laps then I did when I got up this morning.

My head is cloudy again. I am trying hard to make it clear. I feel like it is difficult to breathe. But tomorrow is a new day, and I am going to have an early night and relax with a bath.


8 thoughts on “Shit

  1. I love your honesty. I don’t like thinking of myself as a shouty mummy but I can be. I don’t like it when I am but sometimes there is only so much you can take before you “lose your shit” it’s important that other mamas know that we are not perfect parents, just parents who have limits and need to have a break and give ourselves a break every once in a while x


    1. Thanks for reading! I wish that I was at that place of knowing that it was ok, and that I knew how be in those moments of impatience, overwhelmingness, exhaustion without causing damage to myself or my family. It’s like something snaps. And it hurts x


  2. First things first. You are NOT failing as a mother!!! The fact you care so much about what happened today means that you are doing an amazing job.
    Me totally loosing my shit was the prompt I needed at 8 weeks post partum to seek help for my pnd. Nothing awful happened but I nearly smacked my eldest…. It was the end of a really long day. Mr A had been his usual delightful self (?!?!?) then as I was drying Missy B after their bath she was very tired and grumpy. She kicked out her foot right into my csec scar. I think it was a combo of my pnd ptsd and the physical pain that meant I raised my hand. But managed to stop myself. I’m not proud of this stuff all. But these things happen when your ill.
    You will get to read the signs that you are getting to that point, then just give yourself a time out. Walk away. Take some deep breaths and reevaluate the situation….
    I liken it to a kettle boiling as it gradually gradually builds up. Then pop, There’s steam!!!
    Try not to dwell on this and beat yourself up over it. Treat it as a learning experience and know that you will be better prepare next time to deal with these situations.
    You’re doing so well and I’m sure helping and inspiring lots of other women going through tough times. Take care. Lots of love xxxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am glad to not be alone in this experience! I feel okay this morning, but ended up having a really rough night. I agree with your analogy of the kettle; that is exactly how I felt. Thanks so much for the advice, I am glad that Mr. A told me to put this up! xx

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Eleanor x
      Women are asked to deal with so much in isolation, and the image of the ‘perfect mother’ is one isolating image that is ingrained from public discourse from a young age. Yelling and screaming and collapsing under pressure is definitely not one of the hallmarks of this ideal (not that I am trying to live up the ideal, but it would be nice to come close to resembling a calm adult).

      Liked by 2 people

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