2 (of a person) having given up all hope; despairing
synonyms; defeated, beaten,vanquished, overpowered, overwhelmed, subdued, demoralised, crushed, dishonoured, ruined, crippled.
Mummy blogging isn’t something I personally like to expose myself with. It puts you on the line for judgement and opinions, and those things can make you feel like an even shittier parent than what you’re already feeling yourself. Like we need someone else to point that out for us right? I prefer to keep the positive vibes going, staying positive and battling through parenthood with my husband there to help me out. But the past weeks have seemingly grown tougher and tougher. Today, I’ve felt more broken than ever in parenting.
I’ve felt so alone. I’ve felt like a failure. I’ve felt like nothing I do can go right. I’ve felt like I could scream at the top of my lungs and the boys still wouldn’t feel my frustrations and behave for five minutes. I’ve felt like I’m unheard, like I’m invalid, like my boys don’t get just how much I absolutely adore and love them. I’ve felt like I should seek parenting coaching. Am I that failing as a parent that I need guidance and tools to get me through? Even that, I hate that I’m referring to being a mother as “getting through”. But that’s how its feeling at the moment. Like I’m surviving, but I’m getting nowhere. Waking up everyday is dreaded because I know exactly what the day will hold. It goes a little something like this;
Wake up 6.30am with Kyle as the household alarm. He will demand breakfast right there and then. We can’t even get the kettle boiling before he starts crying for food. If we don’t hear him wake up, he will help himself to the pantry and pour his own cereal into a bowl and all over the floor. That’s when we know “Oh shit he’s awake and we didn’t hear him get up! GO GO GO!” There’s melt down one.
Kurt will ease into the morning a bit slower than Kyle. But once he’s woken up it’s the indecision of what to have breakfast. Toast, cereal, eggs. Toast wins. Start making him toast. He changes his mind and wants eggs. You tell him it’s too late the toast is cooking already. And there you have melt down number two.
Wipe down the benches of all the spilt milk on the bench from Kyle with his cereal and pick up all the soggy nutrigrain off the floor that has fallen off his spoon before he walks in it and all through the house.
Breakfast is done. Phew. For then at least, for now. I’ll make all the beds, open some windows to air the house, wash my face, try tidy up my messy bun that’s been unbrushed all week and try get my morning wee out of the way before I hope to drink a hot coffee.
Then its non stop telling the boys to stop yelling at each other, to share toys, to play nicely together, not to do that to each other, Kurt to get dressed for school 8 times, Kurt to get his school shoes on another 8 times.
I’ll then finally make myself some breakfast with Kyle swooping on in if I can squeeze it in and get dressed.
Get Kurt to school and high fiving that we get 6 hours of freedom from one child.
Home with Kyle if he’s not in daycare and Hubby goes to work in the workshop.
Try to keep up with the demands of his food wants.
Try to get the laundry work done while he plays with all the buttons on the machine. He will even turn the machine off mid cycle some days.
Vacuum the house of all the crumbs, grass, dirt, hair, cat fur, you name it, its probably on my floors. Then wait for Kyle to remake the floor mess later in the day for you to vacuum for the second time in the day.
Do any housework while stepping on hot wheels cars left all over the floors.
By now we’ve more than likely changed two pooey nappies.
Get Kyle outside for some fresh air, a play and time with our pets only to have to change his clothes because he’s either, helped himself to the water tank, the mud, overwatering the veggie patch, or yep, he’s even picked up the dogs shit. I can still picture myself screaming no and running to him.
So that was fun. And so not worth the trouble.
Go inside, change his clothes. Wash more clothes yet again.
Continually keep turning the microwave off that Kyle keeps turning on.
Lunch time. Try to get Kyle to eat lunch. Not going to happen. Refuses lunch every day. Go figure when his biggest love is food.
Put Kyle down for nap time and look forward to that much loved silence and 1.5hrs of FREEDOM. Or in most case for me, time in the workshop getting work done.
5 minutes into nap time, put Kyle back into his bed and take all toys off him that he’s got out.
10 minutes later. Repeat.
30 minutes later. Neighbours mow their lawns and wake Kyle up. Or someone knocks at the door. Or the cat meows up and down the hall way right near Kyle’s door. Wonderful.
Now we have an overtired toddler.
Change another pooey nappy. The boy can shit.
Listen to Kyle ask for Kurty until its time to pick Kurt up. Cute at first. Not so cute 6 months later.
I’ll go to the toilet, come out to find Kyle two jam rolls, 3 biscuits, 4 lollies into his binge. Heck, there was even one morning we got up to Kyle sitting on the lounge with the lolly jar. Not one lolly left in sight.
Pick Kurt up from school. One minute into walking out the school gate I’m already telling him not to flick dirt at people with his shoes, not to do this, not to do that. Yet, he’s come home with a pile of awards and his teacher thinks he’s a top student.
Home and straight into the pantry. For junk food only of course. It can’t be any good food.
Fighting between the boys starts, telling them to share, telling them to play nicely, not to hit each other, not to jump on the lounge, not to run in the house, not to throw balls in the house. Results in no listening on their behalf and a GET TO YOUR ROOM from me.
Try survive the afternoon and witching hour of doing dinner and showers. The count down is well and truly on for their bed time.
Serve up dinner. One will hate it, the other will love it and go back for thirds. Can’t please everyone. Ever. Or make their favourite dinner and all of a sudden they hate it. Just when you think you’ve got it right and they’ll love you for thinking of them. Nope.
Kurt doesn’t eat, then listen to him tantrum over not getting dessert.
Get the boys to bed and finally shower ourselves.
On the couch with hubby to watch some trash tv and oh wait, is that Kyle crying?
Go in to resettle him. Plus another few times while he’s been sick. Being sick, fair enough. Kinda over it though.
Relax with hubby until we go to bed at 11. Try and take in as much time alone, together, in silence while we can, until our eyes are stinging and can’t stay wake another minute longer. Cash in any child free time to do nothing for however long we can.
Go to bed, wake up at 4am to Kyle crying. Again, hes sick the last week. But. Over. It.
Give Kyle some water and medicine. Lay down in his bed to resettle him and give him cuddles. Can’t be stuffed getting up in the cold to go back to my bed. So sleep with Kyle only to get legs in your back, arms to the head and somehow, backed right up to the wall not able to move because Kyle needs all the room in the bed.
Wake up at 6.30 and do it ALL. AGAIN.
Good on you if you’ve made it to here. If you skipped most of it, I don’t blame you. No judgement. It is a nightmare. Throw in Kyle pegging a weed puller tool at your phone screen and smashing it after you just had it replaced 5 days ago. Throw in Kurt’s mood swings at footy when he’s not in the mood to play today. Throw in Kyle drawing on walls. Throw in Kyle trying to pour himself a drink on the tv unit but spilling it all down the back of the tv unit while you vacuum the bedrooms. The other morning Kyle got the aloe vera spray out and decided to spray the whole lounge with it. Oh, and he later pulled the kettle off the bench and water went all over him and the floor. Thank heavens the water was only luke warm by then! The list really could go on and on. But I think you well and truly get the point now.
Mann has found me in the backyard many a times crying to myself because I can’t get control of the boys. He admitted he had a moment similar recently too. I kind of like that he’s at home everyday seeing how hard being a parent is. When he did FIFO before Kyle, he’d get the good side of Kurt, all the laughs, the smiles, the good times and id be exhausted and he never really knew why. Now he does.
As a parent, they leave you deflated don’t they? You wonder what on earth you did so wrong to deserve this? Why oh why you thought that having kids would be fun? You start counting on your fingers how many years roughly until they can legally move out. Why you would expect anything other than this, I mean, they’re kids. They’re meant to drive us nuts right? It’s not meant to be easy, is it? It is meant to be hard work. But that doesn’t make our role as parent any easier. They weren’t wrong when they said its a hard gig. When you’re pregnant, carrying your first baby, you picture yourself as a mother, how you’ll be, what you’ll do, how you’ll parent, the healthy food you’ll cook and how they’ll just love it, your “do’s” and “dont’s”, your morals as a parent. It looks pretty good doesn’t it? It just seems like its a piece of cake. Easy done! I had these same thoughts too. Wow, didn’t it look easy seven years ago. Way too good to be true.
Now they’ve got you turning into “that” parent you promised yourself you wouldn’t be. I said id never say “shut up” to my kids. I just don’t like the way it sounds. Heck, I broke that rule a few weeks ago. I hated myself for it. I was hard on myself for it. Something so trivial and for many parents not a big deal. But that was my one thing I didn’t want to say to my boys. I’d even pull up my husband if he said it to them, and tell him I just don’t like the way it sounds.
Kurt’s dropped the horrored F bomb. He’s known it was wrong because he well and truly shit himself when he knew what he’d said. We gave him hot mustard. Thats better than soap right? Better than a smack? Better than a wooden spoon to the butt? Mustard doesn’t work, try the hot chilli sauce. Listen to him screaming at 8am. That morning was fun. And without a coffee yet! I grew up being told that swearing is for adults, not for children. We learnt that the hard way as kids if we ever slipped up. It’s something I believe in too. We’re adults, we should be able to say what we want as an adult and teach our kids what they can and can’t say. My opinion on that topic. But your child does drop a swear word, your heart still does sink. Did my child really just say that? Am I hearing right? Then you later think and talk to hubby about how he actually said it and thats what he sounds like haha! While they’re in bed of course!
Today was the day Kyle being sick has probably been at its worst. High temps, irritable, doctors have said to just keep up with the panadol. He’s been crying over everything and anything. Nothing has been good enough. He has this shit habit for throwing things. And today he threw a weed puller and of course it had to hit my phone and smashed the new screen. Of course it did. Hubby said he hasn’t seen that look in my eyes since the days my mother used to upset me with her behaviors. Not long after, Kyle went down for his nap, hubby went to the shop to grab some money out to get my phone repaired by the home service mobile guy, and he walks in with flowers for me and demands I take 30minutes out and go sit at the beach. Weeks of what feels like torture had cracked me. I felt like a shell of myself all day. I wasn’t enjoying being mum today. I felt like I could cry and cry and cry and nobody would hear my cries. Like no one would see how broken and battered I am right now. I was wishing for the old days when my mother was in my life, wishing for her help, for some relief, for some guidance, for some encouragement. I’d wish Mannie’s Dad was still here with us. He’d been one who’d know we need a helping hand right now and that we are at our whits ends. You really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.
Mann walked through the door tonight to find me sitting on the kitchen floor with dinner almost burning on the stove. I just couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t anything. You know what I mean. I was over and out. Kyle was in his room crying having a tantrum over not being allowed food because I was cooking dinner, before that he and Kurt were yelling at each other. After dinner, I took myself to the shower and sat in there for what feels like a lifetime. I let my thoughts run, thinking about all that’s been happening, what could have I done better, what can I do better, what should I do better. A million different thoughts and a million answers that probably don’t solve any of our problems. Thats when I thought, is it meant to be easy? I don’t think it is. Its not meant to be. Its meant to be down right hard and testing at times. Its been to be all kinds of crazy with your neighbours hearing your daily chaos. But you know what. Everything in life is a cycle. There will be the high times and the low times, the hard times and the easy times. And you know what else? They will move out one day and you will get your life back haha. Until then, we’ve just got to hang on tight and know we aren’t alone. As alone as I felt today, I’m really not. If every parent is honest with themselves and everyone, we all have our struggles in this gig. Unless you’re the lucky one who has it all figured out and has perfect kids – then please, I’m begging share your secrets with all of us haha! One thing for sure is, it doesn’t matter how much of our patience they take away from us, or how crazy they turn us, we don’t love them any less and they’re always going to be the apple of their parents eyes, through the good and the bad.