Having one of those weeks where I feel as though I’m 100% losing at the whole parenthood game. Wrestling bedtime battles continue and the longer the battle goes on for, the more wound up I get. Honestly, it’s like being a negotiator like Liam Neeson in Taken – Only wishing I was the one taken. Failing at every tactic I’ve seen in the movies until eventually I cave in or one of the tactics works. Which ever comes before I go insane.
Pacifying. Ignoring. Engaging. Comforting. A combination of all four with sometimes some extra sing songs and tik tok dance moves in between.
Some evenings are just mayhem and then other nights are minimum hassle. This week has been testing, trying and head melting. I’ve had to hide in cupboards, swear silently and not show them (yes all 3 of them) that they are killing me softly – slowly. Maybe that’s what Lauren hills song was referencing!? The painful, lovable moments.
Anyway, I didn’t mean to start this like a negative nelly, but sometimes you just have to let it all out and vent! That’s what writing does for me. It’s a form of Therapy!
The amazing part about all of it is that I missed them. They have only been back to school for a few weeks and each day feels longer. For the first week I felt a physical pain in my chest, I’ve never felt that way before but I think the anxiety of back to school after 6 months and Covid and all the extra madness of 2020 has brought it all on. I sat last night, just sitting (like a stalker) in between all their bedroom doors – watching them fall asleep. That is not like me at all. Normally they all go to bed and I am running to the couch, cup of HOT tea and the yummy snacks (the hidden ones) and enjoy it.
It’s all head wrecking some times isn’t it? This being a parent thing.
The other constant battle is that we spend half the time feeling sad about our children growing up so quickly. I mean obviously you want them to grow up, and what a privilege it is to watch them, but it feels like some days you blink and they are no longer a baby. That makes me so sad too. All of a sudden you have 3 sassy, book reading, number counting “I pick my own clothes” (5 times a day I might add) girls ready to answer back and snap fingers like no tomorrow.
Yesterday was particularly hard. There was a lot going on with me, then adding in the two bigger girls arguing over ankle socks (why?) The dog going crazy down stairs as a neighbors cat let herself in and then to top it off FiFi decided dinner is for losers yet screamed solid over wanting a Nutella sand-which. But then it went quiet… FiFi put her hands up to give her a hug. In that moment I heard her little voice…
“Take my hand. Take my whole life to. For I can’t help. Falling in love with you!”
That was it. That moment that melted me. Crumbled me into a million pieces. A two year old singing a song to me in a moment that I was about to brake.
Suddenly it was all ok. I didn’t want to run away. I paused. I took it all in and I enjoyed the mayhem for what it was.
Perfectly, imperfect mayhem