Help I’m a Monster Mum!

Tara O'Reilly - 24 Jul 16

Have you had a parenting moment so dire you actually feel it, physically when you think about it?

Like when you used to go out at the weekends. You know, at night, wearing heels and stuff and you’d wake up the next morning and remember that last karaoke bar and telling everyone that Dolly Parton was your spirit animal? (She totally is, btw)

You’d physically react to the memory – right? Hands over your face, an involuntary groan… that kind of thing.

Well this is worse.

My monster shame

Yesterday, I was a monster. Not even a fun one like Sulley. I was horrible. I should be writing on ‘horrible mother’. And, every time I think of it I long for a Dolly Parton spirit animal anecdote to be the reason I feel this shit.

Picture the scene

Picture the scene: Saturday afternoon, we’re halfway through the husband working away for a month (single parents, hats off to YOU) it is 35 degrees outside, the youngest was at creche for a day and half so I’m behind on work and the house is a tip.- no really an ACTUAL TIP. All week I have cleared a space to work and ignored the rest, because – deadlines.

Are you getting somewhere close to understanding my frame of mind?

So here’s where my monster shame begins. I decided to do a bit of adulting and make the boys’ creche lunches for the week *pause for feelings of smugness* and I asked the boys (not quite 2 years old, and 3) to put their jigsaw puzzle pieces in the box.

And I left them to it, and in my mind that would work fine. Except of course they are small boys. They like mess. They are quite close to being feral. Putting pieces of jigsaw away doesn’t happen without a bit of supervision.

stupid question #1

“Have you finished?” I called hopefully from the kitchen (why? Surely I must had known) “Finished,” called the eldest in his sing song way. But clearly, a fool could see – they had not even started. So, I threatened no swimming and left them to it again…and guess what? They still didn’t suddenly develop a desire to tidy their puzzles.

If I’m honest, they probably thought there was SO MUCH mess that there wasn’t much point in doing anything about it. But I digress.

Third time lucky

When I came in for the third time to see that they not only hadn’t tidied the puzzles but had poured the dog’s water everywhere, gluing poor Thomas the Tank Engine to the floor while they were at it and had also managed to turn on the TV, I lost it.

I shouted, I was angry, I kicked the furniture and waved my arms at my frightened, confused little boys. My youngest stumbled and hit his head on the corner of the table and I coudn’t believe what I was doing.

I was frightening my own precious babies to tears. And they didn’t even have Dad around to diffuse the situation with a hug. They just had me in MONSTER mode.

I walked out of the room and took some breaths, went in and held my youngest and told him I was sorry about his bumped head. He got off my lap and started tidying the puzzle. I was devastated.

In that moment I didn’t want them to touch the stupid puzzle. And I desperately wanted to rewind and lose the monster act. “I’m sorry, mummy’s tired” sounded like the lamest excuse ever. My eldest came over and stroked my arm – “No cry, Mummy”. Shit. Surely nothing could have been more likely to make me bawl my eyes out?

No aiming for perfection here

Here’s the thing, I don’t believe we should be Stepford Mums, never showing any emotion and pretending that everything is always fine and dandy. It’s good for children to see we’re human, and busy, tired, elated, down, cheerful and all the rest of it. But losing control like that. No.

I picture their faces looking into mine, twisted in frustration and anger. Shouting at them, words they probably didn’t even understand, and it breaks my heart.

The day after (no spirit animals)

The next day, I examine them. Checking for signs that I’ve damaged them. That they love me a little bit less than before.

I asked them to pick up their toys, they just looked at me, said no and carried on playing. I could have bloody kissed them. (I did)

So if you’ve had a monster moment, if you’re playing it over and over and worrying about it – you aren’t alone. (Mummy) Monsters Inc. is open for business.

Tara O'Reilly

Thirty-something mother of 2 small (feral) boys. I live in sunny Spain and work from home as an online business manager / VA (Google it) :-)

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