The worst admission.

Harriet Shearsmith - 2 Oct 15

Bare with me because this is probably going to be whingier than a toddler whose just heard the word no. And I’m not sorry for it.

This last week has been stressful. There have been disagreements within extended family, Edith hasn’t slept well and neither has Toby, I’ve made the decision to resign from my previous employment become self-employed and I’ve had to give an interview to the police about my car accident that was over two months ago. In all honesty, it’s been crap. To top it all off, Reuben’s behaviour has been horrible, and boy do I mean horrible. He’s tired from returning to school, and it has been nothing but constant whining, grumpiness and aggressive attitudes all week long. He’s answering back and testing boundaries during a week that I just don’t need it and I’m, quite frankly, not feeling up to this mummy lark at all. The thing is – I can’t take a day off or pull a sicky, I’m mummy, and I just have to deal with that.

I don’t know if it’s my frayed nerves, Reuben’s bad behaviour or maybe I just suck, but I have been shouting and screaming A LOT this past week. I feel like I’ve really fallen below what I expect of a competent and caring mother. I feel like I’m not doing a very good job right now, in fact, I’m pretty sure I’m doing a rubbish one. It’s probably an accumulation of everything, the stresses we face in adult life, the tiredness and dealing with an overtired four year old with a gargantuan sense of entitlement. I’m worrying that I spoil him too much and this makes his behaviour worse? Though I have to say I was given my every hearts desire as a child (apart from a pony haha – mother!?) and I was always grateful, never a spoiled child.

I normally feel so blessed by my children, I’m frequently told ‘ohh you’re such an Earth Mother, such a natural’  but of late I don’t think I am. I’m hating parenting this past week, and if I could magic it all away I would. Isn’t that dreadful? Then I lie in bed with the kids (who have been in our bed every night this week) and Reuben wraps his arms around me, snuggling close whilst Edith holds my finger and Toby snores (less softly more like a frikkin’ freight train) in Daddy’s arms, and I feel SO guilty. How can I possibly be hating loving these little people? I would do anything for them, give anything for them, and yet from the moment they have woken up, to the moment they have drifted off to bed – under threat of iPad app deletions and transformer binning – I feel almost claustrophobic. I just want to hide from it all. Jesus, I just want to shit on my own, have a bath or even have ONE thing go right this week, or easily.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I’m going to wake up, get back to my diet, stop shouting and try to start relaxing after this hellish week. If Reuben’s behaviour doesn’t improve then that’s fine, I will roll with it, but I will not be this horrendously stressed, screaming and shouting machine that I despise so much.

Tomorrow is a new day and things are going to get better. I hope.

Harriet Shearsmith

My name is Harriet, I am a mama to three wonderful kiddos, living in the North of England - though I'd really rather be in the South where things actually happen. I am a serious purveyor of all things boutique or stylish for children and I have a fundamental need to share this obsession with people on my blog Toby&Roo. I'm addicted to costa caramel lattes and chilli - though not at the same time, obvs. Oh, and I sometimes use the term obvs... sorry about that.

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