I think it's safe to say the last couple of weeks have been a bit shit.
The washing machine is broken (intermittently)
The boiler was condemned last Friday and we've had to shell out for a new one which isn't going to be installed until next week.
A crown has come out of my tooth and still isn't fixed.
GDPR policies needed finishing
It's the end of the month no money time and
My Grandma is really very very poorly, reaching the end of her battle with Cancer. My strong, glamorous grandma, the one always there for us all, is going to be leaving soon, and I don't want to face that...
So I'm a bit preoccupied. I'm not juggling jobs well. I'm forgetting things. I'm struggling more than normal to keep on top of things.
And yesterday evening I reached breaking point. I was settling Anna down to breastfeed to sleep when the boys came in shouting about the bloody light. One wanted it on and one wanted it off. This meant Anna was disturbed and NO WAY was she going to go back to sleep.
I gave up and took her downstairs. All the time something someone had said earlier that day playing on my mind that essentially it was MY parenting that Anna wasn't "better behaved". And the list of jobs I had set myself for last night was prodding my conscience.
So she was wriggling about all over me. Slapping me, never sitting still. I got a book in the eye...
Eventually I'd had enough of trying cuddling and boob. There are only so many times I can take her latched on but twisting off my lap still attached...it wasn't working and I was exhausted.
I stormed off to grab the Tula. Flung Anna up and tried to wash up. Cos that still needed doing. All the jobs still needed doing. She wasnt having any of it. Screamed bloody murder. So i got her down and unceremoniously handed her to CJ, she's still screaming. I kicked the Tula across the kitchen and took a moment. But she was crying, and she was crying for me.
She needed me to be kind and loving. Not fed up and angry. Waves of guilt came crashing down on me. I slammed things around a bit in the kitchen. (I actually broke a mug by some over vigorous washing up). But she wasn't settling for CJ. So I went to her. I tried to wash up with her on my hip. I just wanted a clean kitchen..if that was done maybe things would be better? Feelings of failing as a house wife, maybe they'd go away?
In the end I had calmed enough to set her down gently, pull out a wrap and ask her if she wanted a cuddle in it. She did. And she finally calmed down. She sobbed a bit on my back but pretty quickly fell asleep. I just felt sad that I had been a shit mum. That I struggled with her needs.
I suppose the moral of my story is, we all have shit days/weeks. If a friend of mine was telling me this story I would tell her to chill out and be kind to herself. And to trust the foundations of love you have built. Eventually...they came through for me. They were stronger than my weakness last night.
(photo taken to see if anna had fallen asleep)
The washing machine is broken (intermittently)
The boiler was condemned last Friday and we've had to shell out for a new one which isn't going to be installed until next week.
A crown has come out of my tooth and still isn't fixed.
GDPR policies needed finishing
It's the end of the month no money time and
My Grandma is really very very poorly, reaching the end of her battle with Cancer. My strong, glamorous grandma, the one always there for us all, is going to be leaving soon, and I don't want to face that...
So I'm a bit preoccupied. I'm not juggling jobs well. I'm forgetting things. I'm struggling more than normal to keep on top of things.
And yesterday evening I reached breaking point. I was settling Anna down to breastfeed to sleep when the boys came in shouting about the bloody light. One wanted it on and one wanted it off. This meant Anna was disturbed and NO WAY was she going to go back to sleep.
I gave up and took her downstairs. All the time something someone had said earlier that day playing on my mind that essentially it was MY parenting that Anna wasn't "better behaved". And the list of jobs I had set myself for last night was prodding my conscience.
So she was wriggling about all over me. Slapping me, never sitting still. I got a book in the eye...
Eventually I'd had enough of trying cuddling and boob. There are only so many times I can take her latched on but twisting off my lap still attached...it wasn't working and I was exhausted.
I stormed off to grab the Tula. Flung Anna up and tried to wash up. Cos that still needed doing. All the jobs still needed doing. She wasnt having any of it. Screamed bloody murder. So i got her down and unceremoniously handed her to CJ, she's still screaming. I kicked the Tula across the kitchen and took a moment. But she was crying, and she was crying for me.
She needed me to be kind and loving. Not fed up and angry. Waves of guilt came crashing down on me. I slammed things around a bit in the kitchen. (I actually broke a mug by some over vigorous washing up). But she wasn't settling for CJ. So I went to her. I tried to wash up with her on my hip. I just wanted a clean kitchen..if that was done maybe things would be better? Feelings of failing as a house wife, maybe they'd go away?
In the end I had calmed enough to set her down gently, pull out a wrap and ask her if she wanted a cuddle in it. She did. And she finally calmed down. She sobbed a bit on my back but pretty quickly fell asleep. I just felt sad that I had been a shit mum. That I struggled with her needs.
I suppose the moral of my story is, we all have shit days/weeks. If a friend of mine was telling me this story I would tell her to chill out and be kind to herself. And to trust the foundations of love you have built. Eventually...they came through for me. They were stronger than my weakness last night.
(photo taken to see if anna had fallen asleep)
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