First there came a struggle over the sippy cup, then came the shaking, followed by shouting. Next the throwing of a lidless sippy cup. Milk was all over the dining room floor. It had even splashed onto my son and his hat. But the anger did not subside with the mess that I had made. I was so angry that I couldn’t see straight. I took my son’s much-beloved trilby and threw it in the bin. Dubz ran off crying. I picked up a tea towel and began wiping up the milk from the floor. My daughter quietly ate her dinner at the table.
After wiping up the milk, I was still shaking. I took a few deep breaths and I picked the hat out of the bin and gave it a wipe. I then took it to Dubz and we hugged. I felt mildly guilty for behaving in such a foul way. But it was almost the end of the Easter holidays and I was beyond tired. My daughter had been up early waking up our entire household most morning of the two week break. Both children would spend the dinner-hour tired and grumpy. Most days I could handle it. Most days I was able to remember that I am the adult. I am the only person, while Husband is at work, with control over their faculties.
But that day. That day I lost it. I am glad that I could not see how I behaved. I am glad that there were no hidden cameras. I was childish and petty and quite horrid. But I am only human. I get tired. I get grumpy. But this is not an excuse. I shouldn’t shout at my children. I don’t like shouting at them. It makes them feel frightened. It sets a bad example for how they should behave. Some people may read this and think that I don’t deserve to be a parent. But we all have bad days. And sometimes we can hide in another room and have a cry. And sometimes we can go for a run or workout at the gym. Sometimes we can hide in the kitchen cabinet and sneak some chocolate. Sometimes we pop open some wine or crack open the gin. And sometimes, sometimes, we have a mummy meltdown.
* Please note that the above pic is a re-creation of how I felt that day. I could not quite capture the sadness and anger I felt.