Sometimes I feel like I’m failing my son,my husband and myself…
Yesterday was one of those days.
Picture this; I’m standing in a messy house (despite our best efforts, having Aidan “on holiday” from day care, the two day a week cleaning lady on leave for 3 weeks so far with no indication of when she will be back, and us only having random days off from work, is really starting to show).
I’m ankle deep in washed but not ironed or packed away clothes looking for something to wear to work today. Something that actually fits! I’ve got menstrual cramps, a pie made from Robs leftover chicken curry in the oven and the annoying sound of the TV ringing in my ears (can’t take music or TV when I’m tense…I’m a silence please kind of girl). The monthly budget still needs to be done and I have a strong suspicion it’s about to sound like our GPS, “recalculating recalculating”…
Aidan looks up at me with the last reminence of a discontinued lipstick (I was totally saving) plastered on his face. The cookie cutter in his hand evidence of him having packed out the toy box I just painstakingly “sorted out”.
I’m not really up to arguing with him right now, having recently reprimanded him for unpacking all the spices in the spice rack, throwing the bottles in a big popcorn bowl and then stiring it with a braai skewer he got off the table by using that same popcorn bowl as a stepping stool…
But then he starts hurling things at me and laughing like a cartoon villain.
Rolled up socks mostly but the whole experience stings.
I don’t want a child who is into gratuitous violence thank you very much.
He seems to be doing this when tired these days and it has been added to my list of parenting queries under; why doesn’t my child eat and why does he find the naughty corner so funny.
With the anxiety of starting a new job in the back of my mind (I don’t doubt that I can actually do it – not my first rodeo – but haven’t had to pitch story ideas in ages and I always freak out before starting anything new…its kinda my thing)
Suddenly I was just so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take it anymore and collapsed in a heap, tears rolling down my face.
I don’t think I would have got a mothering licence if that was a thing.
The report would say things like, questionable housekeeping habits, not up to challenge of cooking three square meals a day, looses her temper when building blocks are hurled at her, a complete failure in the get back into shape after baby arena,works entirely too much, has counted popcorn and half a yogurt as supper for a toddler because the daily “oh dear goodness eat something!anything!please” thing had run its course…and so on and so forth.
I sat down feeling utterly defeated, calling for a life time-out (on the first of January nogal)
That’s when the cutest thing happened…Aidan handed me his sippy cup and broke a cracker in half (not sure where he got it,don’t wanna know) handed it to me and said “share mamma”…
He lay next to me silently sipping on milk and rubbing my hand.
Meanwhile his Dad had salvaged the practically burning pie, packed our lunches (my job as he does supper and I do breakfast and lunch) and even cleaned up the kitchen.
I found myself suddenly feeling so silly…. so what if I’m not perfect? I have found my perfect place with these two and they appreciate and accept me craziness and all and that right there is what it’s all about 🙂