Cry Me A River

Nina P - 13 Dec 15

I quit! escaped my mouth Saturday night followed by a feminist rant and floods of tears.  My velcro baby was relentlessly tree hugging my torso, the eldest was jumping on the bed singing a rendition of ‘Watch Me’ and my head felt like it was on fire (the blue gas cooker kind).  My parental skills were at a low ebb and my compeer of 6 years was, in my stubbornness, useless.  Weeks of pent up frustration surged out of every pore in my skin – like the hulk on speed.

Ultimately, everyone got it in the neck that evening because quite frankly I had, had enough; enough of being the curator of the house and all things tantrum related. What sent me over the edge was when my husband told me to take paracetamol for my headache (which in my defence doesn’t work for me). I didn’t want bloody paracetamol, I wanted cocktails on a beach! Although, I would have settled for my children to go to sleep without a performance and a ‘there, there. You’ll feel better in a minute’ cuddle from the leader of the pack.

After about an hour of solo sulking and feeling absolutely rotten, my phone buzzes with ‘Wanna watch a film?’ Tail between my legs I apologised for my behaviour with ‘Yeah, alright’ – turns out he’s not useless after all.

I’m not at all proud of my behaviour, it’s shameful actually; however, it’s alright to have a maternal meltdown once in a while. In fact, it’s normal. I use to think it was my age, until I got talking to more and more mothers. The general consensus is that you have the essential role of being the familial King Pin, so where do you fit in well deserved R&R?

It feels like nobody will notice of how tough it is to juggle so many roles, without the ability to mechanically transform, until you breakdown. Why? perhaps it’s because you look like you’ve got your s**t together; when in reality, it’s just hit the fan and landed in your dinner plate… and then out cometh the raging beast. Of course at this point your complete meltdown is irrational, hurtful and selfish.

I don’t have the winning formula but I leave you with this: the tree that provides shelter must also bare the heat of the scorching sun – sometimes the heat just gets too intense. You just need to learn how to surf the waves and appreciate the moment.

Whoosah.

Love, Nina x

Image source: “Golden Age” by Tommaso Pedone (2012)

Nina P

Founder of Mummy and Nina, for those of us that have lost ourselves to dirty nappies and school runs. Together we can strike a balance between being a mummy and our former selves!

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