Emotional Rollercoasters

It's a week since I got out all my thoughts on here and as writing always does, it made me feel good and kind of cleansed. With words all clearly out, thoughts weren't circulating around my head in a random confused manner. It's been a good week.

And I've figured it out. Being head of a household, in charge of the daily runnings, feels like being a General in a war. Now, I don't mean to minimise war and its horrors, but in the 4 walls of our Kingdom, being mum is being the General in the war. I feel like i have my troops well-trained, organised, in control. Sometimes i'm even being super-General and organising extra training to entertain the troops, like craft or a box obstacle course. Feeling proud of them and of me, I begin to relax and enjoy.

BAM BOOM...a reminder that a mother, like a General, should never relax...a Bomb hits. The motive for the bomb may be unknown and seemingly insignificant, the blast was unexpected but the damage caused may be huge (certainly time-consuming and energy-draining). Maybe one of the troops was using the colour of pencil that the other wanted, or maybe the General left the troops happily at it to hang out the washing and this caused disorder to erupt. Whatever the motive, BAM, the bomb has hit and the rubble needs to be cleaned up and order resumed.

So, the General puts in the work to resume order, get the troops under control and happy once more, and starts again to relax into the knowledge that she is doing a good job with her Unit, and that she is, indeed, a worthy General. But again without warning, BAM, another bomb, maybe 2 minutes after the last, maybe up to an hour. Probably a different motive, but always the same result. Disorder in the warzone, chaos within the troops. More time and energy cleaning up the mess, whether it be physical or emotional mess.

And so the day goes on. And the next day too. In fact, everyday with toddlers is like this warzone. Unpredictable, unexplainable. A war is certainly not the best analogy because there is not the wonder and beauty and cuteness in the troops and daily moments as there is in a home with toddlers. And the majority of the most days are filled with the wonderful moments rather than the warzone ones. But there is enough unpredictability on a daily basis to make even the good days feel like being in a warzone, because mum is still on edge waiting for bombs, in whatever form, to hit.

It's the emotional rollercoaster that every day as a mum is. Toddlers go through myriad of emotions every hour, mostly at different times to each other. And then there is my emotions to contend with as well, often particularly tired, maybe hormonal, certainly not completely stable and predictable. It is my job, as their mum, psychologist, cousellor, moderator, to help them deal with their emotions, as one of the main functions of toddlerhood is learning about dealing with emotions for yourself. And sometimes i wonder, who am I to teach when I am an emotional person too? Surely they notice that I am not always consistent in my responses.

Either of them (or me!) can go from laughing to an argument to tears to laughing to frustration to laughing to anger to tantrums to wandering off to laughing again in a matter of minutes. I am exhausted after an hour of it some days, and wonder how I am going to get through the rest of the day. No matter how much sleep I got the night before, emotional times can tip me over the edge into exhaustion. It can be something seemingly so insignificant that causes great shifts in emotions in toddlers, so when i say "emotional times", it isn't even that something bad has happened like death or illness. One of them might have walked toward the other at the wrong moment, or one might be able to remove a lid off a container, or one maybe hasn't quite mastered the art of putting on shoes but really wishes she had...etc....and that's seemingly all that is needed for big overflowing emotions.

Emotional management is not even one of the 'tasks' that can be ticked off as having been completed for the day, because it is ongoing for all the hours they are awake (and some nights, even while they're asleep). Sometimes i manage it really well and feel very proud. I put them to the bed at the end of the day feeling that i am indeed SuperMum. Other days thought, i put them into bed feeling relief that their day is over, then when i check on my sleeping angels later, I feel so guilty and DevilMum-ish that i didn't handle every situation as well as these two amazing kids deserve.

Unpredictable. Exhausting. Emotional. But still worthwhile and wonderful and precious. I never want to take away from that because truly, it is the majority (most days!). Let me explain about that just quickly. I write all the wonderful things in my family photoalbums, which are like journals for me. All the beautiful family memories, the funny things they say and do, they are proudly documented there. Here in this purely written form that they may never read, it all sounds bad but that's just me getting these confused thoughts out and making sense of why i find some hours in some days (or all the days in some weeks) so damn hard.

Parenthood is HARD!

I would not change a thing about my life. I am blessed with two wonderful toddlers, a boy who's 3 and a bit and a girl who's 18 months old. I have a husband who is my best friend and an amazing father. I am mostly a stay-at-home mum, working one day a week as a community nurse, a job that I love at the moment and which is a step in the right direction for my future. On my work day, we are lucky enough to have grandparents who eagerly take care of and spoil the kids every week. I am fit and healthy, play hockey and have a designated exercise evening with a friend. My life is filled with very good friends from all areas of my life, and I can talk about anything at all with many of them. My family are financially comfortable and we don't have too many struggles. I am generally a positive upbeat person, seeing the bright side and laughing often. As I said, I would not change a thing about my life.

Why then, am I often resentful and confused about my days and my role as a mum and 'housewife'? The dialogue that travels through my head, which is shared and echoed in conversations with other mums, is not all rosy. It would not make anyone think that I do indeed feel very lucky in my life. I read widely, fiction and non-fiction, books, magazines, newspapers, internet articles. Occasionally I'll read something that strikes a chord and makes complete sense to me and seems to explain my inner dialogue. During the last week, I've had several of these revelations and this has enabled me to suddenly put into words the stuff that is going on in my head.

I think the main revelation is that no matter what the joys are, no matter what the rewards, PARENTHOOD IS HARD. The day-t0-day workings of a family are hard for parents, because it is relentless, tiring and often rewardless. It's hard to be a mum, no doubt it's hard to be a dad. It's hard to be a stay-at-home mum, no doubt it's hard to be a full-time working mum. It's hard if the children are 'easy' kids, it's no doubt harder if they are more challenging in their own ways. Parenthood is full-on and complex and (hopefully) the hardest thing we will ever do. Revelation number one seems so simple but it has taken me a while to admit that being a mum is hard, without qualifying it with "but it's worth it" or "but it's what I've always wanted". To put a full-stop after the 'hard' without adding any 'buts' is ok to do because IT'S HARD!

I heard about mother-guilt long before I was a mum. I knew in theory what people meant by it but you can't truly understand it till you're there, feeling it all the time. I realised last week that I feel guilty when I'm 'just' playing with my kids, because there's so much to be done around the house. And I feel guilty when I'm doing housework, because I should be playing with my kids. I feel guilty when I'm cooking, because that's always a time that the kids crave attention. I feel guilty when I'm not cooking because I want my kids to eat healthily and home-made. I feel guilty when I get angry at them and show my frustration. I feel guilty when I choose to ignore a behaviour because for that moment it's just easier rather than deal with it. I feel guilty when my husband walks in to find noise and chaos in the house because I'm too busy cooking tea or tidying up to entertain the kids. I feel guilty when my husband walks into find me 'just sitting and playing' with the kids when the house is bedlam. Get the picture?! The guilt I feel isn't over-riding, anxiety-producing guilt that is a mental health problem, it's just everday little niggles. And I know it is normal because my mum friends say much the same stuff. It's just Mother-Guilt.

And the worst thing is, it doesn't seem to be felt by men. It is not in their genetic make-up. My husband thought I was a little crazy when I explained all that and queried him about feeling guilty. He has no inkling of it at all. He can be blissfully unaware of what else is going on in the house as he sits at the computer surfing footy sites. It doesn't bother him if the kids are whinging or talking to him or the house is getting messier by the minute. He just does what he wants to do and tries to persuade me that he's teaching the kids independence by ignoring them. No guilt, not even the slightest question in his mind that it's not OK. And he is a great, involved, loving dad. But he is a male who was born without the Mother-Guilt gene.

Another revelation that I had while reading an article was that most mums in this generation, in their 'previous lives', have had careers, in which they were important with tasks to accomplish. The single thing that I struggle most with in my day-to-day life as a mum is the feeling that I cannot get anything finished in one attempt. Most of my tantrums are about "just wanting to finish what I am doing!" I feel I go through my days half-doing 1000 things, never stopping, getting to the end of the day feeling as though I have accomplished nothing. The house can still be a bomb-site, even though I feel as though I spent all day tidying up. The washing can still be unfinished, even though I started it at 6am. The dishwasher can still be full, even though I've started unpacking it 3 times. Things just get in the way and therefore I always feel unfinished and I find it an incredibly unsettling feeling.

Speaking of the housework, I think I could be a truly outstanding mother, fun and cool and amazing, if only my kids were the only thing I had to focus on. With someone else to do all the peripheral stuff that keeps a family running, my mothering would be exemplary and my kids would be the luckiest in the world.

Alas, housework and all that goes with it is a part of mothering and I do recognise that. I am not a lazy person, nor am I in any way a clean-freak (just ask my husband who does indeed have those tendencies!). I like for things to be tidy but not in an obsessive-compulsive way. I can only imagine the inner struggles that truly ordered people must suffer.

It just seems that there is endless work to be done around the house. If it doesn't involve feeding or dressing or entertaining the kids, it's the floors or the bathrooms or the stove top. If all that is miraculously done, there's the fridge, the windows, the microwave. And that's just the inside stuff! It is never-ending. There will never be a time where a mum with any amount of Mother-Guilt on board will be able to sit back and say to herself "there is nothing to be done." Never. What a depressing thought.

And you know, it's not the big things that get me. It's the mess that happens as we go about our day. It seems as I walk through the house tidying up, my kids follow, leaving a wake of new mess, so that when I turn around, there's already more there. The first meal after I've scrubbed the house makes the place look uncleaned already and I wonder why I bothered in the first place. It's physically exhausting and mentally draining. I had a tantrum at my husband one sleep-deprived day when he made noises about having a cleaner once a month (by the way, a great idea but NOT for him to suggest. Only OK for ME to suggest!). I tantied that it wasn't a cleaner I needed, it was a little fairy to run along behind the kids and pick up their toys, their crumbs, their spilt food under the highchair, their books. THAT would make my life easier, not someone coming in every so often just to clean the bathrooms! For whom, by the way, I would spend 'hours' tidying for in preparation!

There are so many expectations of a stay-at-home mum. One of the little things that unsettles me is this era of communication. As a 'housewife', I should always be available and I should answer the phone at all times and emails promptly. Because after all, I am not busy, I am just sitting at home. I should not talk to her kids while on the phone and I should ensure that they are quiet at all times during the phone call. I should not use the (heavenly) 'do not disturb' button on the phone and let incoming calls go to answering machine. I should also be ringing certain important people regularly.

Which brings me back to guilt. If I'm on the phone having a social chat, I feel guilty and disrespectful to my kids. If I don't ring certain people often enough, I feel guilty. If when I do ring them, I have to talk to my kids during the conversation (which of course is every time), I feel guilty. If I don't talk to/admonish my kids, they might hurt each other (then i would truly feel guilty!). I should probably make phone calls at night when the kids are in bed, but to be honest, by that time, I am so tired and so sick of being spoken to incessantly and answering question after question, and I so desperately need my own physical and mental space, that it all seems too hard. Far too hard.

Yes, it's HARD being a mum. I wouldn't change a thing about my life and I have everything (and more) that I always wanted, but IT IS HARD. Nothing can take away from that.