This morning… I felt like a terrible Mum & For a little while after, I believed it to be true.
I yelled at you and it wasn’t necessary. You were challenging me by changing your outfit for the third time and when you decided to wear a fairy dress without anything underneath it and refused to wear pants, I lost it.
Instead of dealing with it, I actually wanted to yell at you to make myself feel better.
I didn’t want to negotiate with you today.
I chose not to handle it.
My soul is tired. I haven’t slept well. I haven’t had coffee. My emails are piling up and I was rushing you to kindy. I just wanted to yell and I took it out on you in that moment.
It made everything worse and it didn’t make me feel better at all. It broke my heart. In that instance I immediately thought, “What am I teaching you? To lash out? This isn’t OK, what am I doing!?”
You are gentle and sweet & You hate when I’m mad with you. I hate feeling mad at you, even if just for a moment. We are so connected at the heart that when my love turns to fear or anger, you pick up on it in an instant. Despite your challenges, you are intuitive and empathetic to the core. You are tuned into me, which is so fascinating as you selectively mute out so much of the world, you are always tuned into me and the people you love.
I felt that pang of guilt for losing my cool and it hurts my heart deep down and I hear that familiar but nasty voice in my head that says “YOU ARE A TERRIBLE MUM”.
For a moment I believed it and I cried. I said out loud “I’m so sorry, it’s just so hard sometimes.”
I held you tight. “I’m sorry”
Then, you look up to me and say “Shh, it’s OK” and dry my tears. Even though you’re 3 years old and on the spectrum you care and understand more than I ever give you credit for. I should be the one comforting you.
It is true, I AM a terrible Mum.
I dropped you at kindy, we cuddled and you ran off to play. My heart still hurts in a place only a mum with a quirky or different child knows. It’s a place that isn’t open everyday. It’s raw and painful and feels like it should kill you but doesn’t. This space most days isn’t opened but on the tough days, it opens wide again and it’s a familiar feeling. It’s grief.
Walking away from your kindy, I realise something.
…I need to give myself permission.
Permission to let it go.
Permission to breathe.
Permission to love myself and over-ride that voice that tells me I’m not worthy.
WHY? Because I AM a fantastic
Mum & I’m also a human being who is doing their best. Today and every day.
We don’t have to be perfect people. We just have to be kind to ourselves and respect that not every day is going to be handled as we want it to. What we can do is forgive ourselves, hug our kids a little tighter, own our mistakes and never be afraid to say sorry, make that cup of tea, take a breath and … let it go.
Today, I’m giving you permission. To tell yourself that YOU are a f&$@ing fantastic Mum.
You’ve got this.
Give yourself permission. 😘