Dealing with Mum Rage

1derful - 30 Mar 17

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned. Especially, when the scorner is a toddler.

Imagine my utter delight when one Monday morning, unbeknown to me, the toddler in question decided to, for want of a better description, be a bit of a knob.

In the space of an hour, the following meltdown’s occurred:
1. Getting dressed meltdown
2. Leaving house meltdown
3. ‘Meltdown for the sake of a meltdown’ type meltdown
4. ‘Total refusal to get in the pool for her swimming lesson’ meltdown
5. An ‘I want my daddy because you’re so mean’ meltdown.

Now, as a mature woman used to the whimsical moods of a threenager, I took this in my stride and dealt with it all with a smile on my face. Said no mum ever. Or at least, not this mum.

I had reached boiling point. The mum rage took hold. The toddler in question was dragged off poolside and marched home in a torrent of ‘That’s IT! NO TREATS today. And no, you can’t have your blanky until you learn how to behave nicely. And NO we are not seeing your friend. Your play date is CANCELLED. NO TREATS. NO BLANKY. NO PLAYDATE.’.

With the rage level now at 9 out of 10, I’d lost the ability to think clearly and for the next hour sulked in the armchair with, what now seems like, a bitter determination to make both our lives an utter misery for the rest of the day. Not only had I made a huge deal of not getting in the pool (next week is going to be fun!), I’d taken away blanky – the one thing that helps console her in a time of need. I’d also taken away the chance to see her bestie, who she adores, probably more than me, because I just MUST follow through with threats. Why tackle one issue at a time when you can create 3?! Where on earth could my daughter have learned such stubborn behaviour from?!

As the mist started to lift, I realised what I had in fact done is perfectly mirror the completely unreasonable behaviour of my three year old. Queue tears. Lots of them. Queue snivelling ‘I’m an awful mum’ to my other half, ‘I don’t deserve her’.

And right then, I realised for me, that’s parenting summed up. Full circle, from the height of rage to depth of sadness and pureness of unconditional love within an hour.

I’m not proud of my mum rage. It’s ugly, and I should know better. If Super-Nanny was filming me fly-on-the-wall style, I’d be ashamed of what I saw. Absolutely zero patience and a complete disregard for that fact that she is three, and there is little point in reasoning or even trying to understand. She probably doesn’t understand why she’s behaving like that herself. I wish I could keep a lid on it, make more reasonable threats to suit the toddler crime in question, but in the heat of the moment I find it almost impossible to be a reasonable human being and yet, I expect her to be! I guess I’m an all or nothing kind of person, and I could do with finding the middle ground.

Finally, a note to myself. PICK YOUR BATTLES. And for god’s sake you stubborn old cow, take a yourself off for a breather once in a while.

1derful

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