If I wrote half of the things I thought about my kid yesterday, you wouldn’t like me anymore.
You might wonder who the hell is this crazy lady, and where did the mindful author of I Have It All go?
Yesterday, moments after I wrote and posted about love mantras, my day took a dark turn.
I don’t mean to bitch about the heat, really I don’t. But it has been making monsters out of me and my entire family. Without air conditioning in the main parts of the house, it is really freaking hard to even move around in my 95 degree
oven house. The sun and heat are so strong that I am nervous to even take the kids outside to play in the sprinkler or baby pool for fear of them getting overheated running around.
Also, I have an infection in my eye and had an allergic reaction to the medication I was given and I woke with a totally swollen, red, weeping eye that was crusted shut and still wouldn’t open all the way even after cold and warm compresses.
Not that any of this excuses my crappiness. I’m just saying.
So, I wrote that glowing and exuberant post and then Jack started to escalate with his behavior. Stupid stuff that just spiraled out of control to the point where he was kicking, screaming, and throwing things. We put him into his air conditioned room to cool off and he continued to scream and throw things at the door.
Logically I know this is just a tantrum and it will end. Rationally I know that he is just pissy from the heat and this is his way of showing us. Cognitively I understand all of his bluster will eventually peter out and he will be back to his good old self.
Emotionally the banging on his door makes my heart race and I want to cry. The noise and aggression scare the shit out of me. I feel like a total failure as a mom. I feel like my kid hates me and does not respect me or any of my entirely reasonable demands.
My initial response is anger, frustration, and fear. Then I kind of go numb. It is like I dissociate and the happy, warm, loving mama gets locked up while irritable, chilly mama takes over.
Chilly mama hates her life. She had a tendency to bitch non-stop about how small the apartment is, and how it is dubious we will ever get anywhere in life. She goes on and on about the mess, the surplus of toys, and how she is going to throw everything away and cancel Christmas. She snaps at everyone, even the baby. She hates her car and resents the fact that she is the only person who knows how to walk a can to the recycle bin, or wipe up the pee around the toilet.
Sometimes she even wishes that she never got married or had kids. . .
Chilly mama is a huge, effin bee.
Before you go calling your publisher thinking you have a book deal telling my story as the next Sybil, put down the phone. I do not have multiple personalities.
I’m a mom who is beyond stressed and so scared that she is not good enough, but I’m not psychotic.
Days like yesterday, I don’t feel any of the bounty and empathy that allow me to write posts about having everything I could ever dream of in life.
We had to go to my mom’s. It was her birthday. I was so caught up in my stress I could barely muster a smile. When she took me aside to ask what was wrong, I told her that every ounce of my psychic space was taken up with Jack’s behavior and that I almost wished he had never been born.
Who the hell am I? That is just such assholic, awful behavior towards everyone! What kind of a mom would ever say such a thing about their child?
Am I a fraud? I don’t know.
I hope not. I mean, when I write those sally sunshine posts, I really feel and mean them.
But it is so easy for the balance to get tipped to the hopeless. And here I am blogging about what a crappy mom, wife, and person I am really deep down, so that should count for something, right?
Warm mama came back a little while after dinner because, believe it or not she remembered the love mantras about which she was spouting off earlier.
I put some drops in my demonic-looking eye and went to bed in my air conditioned room pretty early. Getting some sleep helped a bit, and I am feeling myself today.
This confession is written, I fear, at the risk of creating a mass exodus of my blog followers. But I want to be real, and I think being mindful of my neurosis and foibles is the first step towards successful integration of both warm and chilly mamas.
I’m going to sit with it for a while.
If you are still around tomorrow, I will let you know what I come up with.