Today I posted a couple of pictures of Carolyn on my Facebook page. I had taken the kids to a park today and she completely loved the swing. She giggled and squealed through the whole thing, and I snapped a couple of pictures of that cute moment to share. If someone were to see nothing but those pictures as a representation of my day today, they might think that my kids are always happy, or that we have so much fun together. They might imagine all of the happy times that the kids and I have on our outings together. And they wouldn't necessarily be wrong, but they certainly don't have the full story.
What I didn't post a picture of is the mega meltdown tantrum that happened when I went to buckle Peter into his carseat. I made the "mistake" of not letting him climb into his carseat on his own and just setting him into it- and there was no reset button after that. It was probably the fifth of sixth significant tantrum today. The fifth or sixth that I had not quelled well. And this one in particular I most certainly did not "quell" well. My calm and centered mothering chops were worn thin, and none of the fancy parenting book techniques (that I could remember) for calming him down were working.
The scene progressed to me resorting to muscling him into his carseat with him fighting me tooth and nail. In the midst of the struggle, the buckle pinched his skin as I clicked it into place. His crying amplified by several more decibels with the addition of that pain, and my feelings of motherly guilt skyrocketed accordingly. I finally got him all the way buckled in, and we made the 10 minute drive home with him screaming and crying much of the way, and me not ready to let go of feeling mad while simultaneously trying not to cry from the intense feelings of failure. I was pretty successful at staying mad, and not very successful at trying not to cry. I felt like I had been fighting an uphill battle all day, and that was the big, rotten cherry on top.
I never really recovered after that, and my eyes are still puffy and irritated from the crying. I turned on the TV and let the kids watch YouTube, because I figured that was better than the alternative of me getting upset again. And hey, I was already feeling like a crummy mom.
I'm not really ready to feel better just yet. I'm not mad anymore, but I'm feeling beat up and a little hopeless. I know that when I'm ready, I'll sort through these feelings and come out on the other side, but I'm not ready to do that yet.
For me, one of the hardest part about putting all of these feelings online is the well meaning advice or pity that comes as a result of it. The last thing I want to hear is why I shouldn't be feeling what I'm feeling. I did enough things wrong today, and I don't want my feelings to be one more thing I'm doing wrong. For now I'm just going to let myself feel all the feels, and maybe tomorrow I'll work them out and put them to good use.
Labels: Motherhood, Parenting