Yesterday was awful.
Even with the perspective that some rest and a new morning bring, yesterday will go down in the annals as perhaps one of my worst mothering days.
This whole week, in fact, can suck it. I lost my temper more times than I care to admit, culminating with a terrible performance where I screamed in my daughter’s face, grabbed her arm and caused her to slip and fall in a puddle of her own urine.
She had yet another accident – the third one of the week – fooling around and dancing while I fed Henry. I knew she had to pee and repeatedly told her to go. Helpless to get up and force her (see: feeding baby), my voice got louder and louder and the threats got more and more dire until she finally consented to go potty.
The she peed all over herself, her clothes and the floor.
Again.
I lost it. I’m tired of the not listening and I’m tired of giving her choices, only to have her make the wrong decision. As I watched her slip and fall, I felt a terrible wrenching in my heart and I knew the memory of her face at that moment – and my too-tight grip on her arm – will stay with me always.
It is a moment of which I am ashamed.
I sent her to her room for her safety and my sanity, cleaned up the mess, and marched upstairs for a stern discussion about why she got in trouble and what the consequences were. She cried, and begged me for a hug.
I hugged her, but I confess: I didn’t want to.
The Poo is a trial these days. She is so mouthy and defiant, and she is acting out in ways I didn’t anticipate. She tells me off regularly, and yesterday she even behaved badly at her beloved gym school, a place where she usually gallops around for an hour with a huge smile, and gets a glowing report from her teachers.
Instead, I interfered in the class three times (frowned on at this institution) to discipline her. I had to. She needs limits and as hard as it is for me emotionally, I know intellectually that if I am soft on her now because I feel guilty about displacing her as an only child, she will channel that strong personality for evil and not good.
After we got home from her class, Shaggy commenced screaming in a most scary way for at least 90 minutes, causing me to give up a precious appointment with the car-seat safety people.
Two-thirty yesterday afternoon found me holding a naked, screaming baby, crying myself and rocking in the nursery glilder. The Poo wandered upstairs and watched me from the doorway, pie-eyed and nervous.
“Mommy,” she said, “why are you talkin’ sad to me?”
“Mommy is tired, baby girl, and I am sad,” I replied, wiping my face.
She approached me warily, and put one small hand on my arm. “But why, Mommy? Why are you sad?”
“Mommy isn’t being a very good mommy this week, and I feel sad that your brother is crying so hard and that you were such a naughty girl this week,” I told her, my honesty a product of exhaustion and not knowing what else to say. “I’m not doing a good job.”
“Oh,” my daughter said. She took her hand away and stood there quietly for a few minutes, and then we both heard Mr. C walk in the door. I’d called him earlier to tell him we would not be picking him up to do the car-seat thing, and his concern prompted him to leave work early.
He came in, took The Poo downstairs, and left me cuddling a finally-quiet Shaggy, whose wails stopped abruptly and for what reason I could not tell you.
I spent the remaining afternoon hours huddled on my bed with the sleeping boy, alternately crying and wishing I could turn back the clock.
I love Shaggy, but he isn’t an easy baby. I love my daughter, but her strengths can also be a detriment to her progress and my mental health. Yesterday all I wanted to do was spin the hour hand until it was 1992, and I walked down Newbury Street in Boston, my biggest worries a term paper and what to wear the next day.
I am failing at this. Failing in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Failing in ways that make me want to shut the door on all of them and cry into the wee hours of the morning. Failing epically.
Failing was fine when I was experimenting with my life, moving through the days and nights unfettered and responsible only for myself.
Now I am responsible not only for the care and feeding of these small, helpless humans, I am responsible for delivering them to the rest of the world as able, kind, thoughtful and productive citizens.
This week I am coming up short, and all I can do is hope that the next day is better than the last.
This is so hard.
{ 69 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh, friend, this is a dark and narrow corridor that we all walk, as children and as parents. I am so fiercely empathetic, I ache for you. I stood red faced before two soft talking preschool teachers yesterday, listening to all the ways my daughter failed with neither of them ever offering a syllable of anything constructive. It fucking sucked and I wanted to sob and tear their eyes out. I am thinking of having a trophy engraved for my mantle congratulating me for not doing that. Sometimes it’s the not completely losing it that is the victory. You will all recover from yesterday and it will get better. Let’s focus on a husband who came home, a daughter who had the vocabulary to ask you questions, a baby who will get easier and prove you to be a better mother than you ever imagined possible and you for having the courage to share this and move beyond the day, to try again today. ((hugs))
Sometimes the kid will pee on the floor, sometimes you’ll have to stop feeding the baby to attend to the other, and sometimes you’ll lose it. There’s only so far your arms can reach to get your kids to do what they’re supposed to be doing, and you can’t be everywhere at once.
As for the gym class, let the instructors do it. If they are good instructors, they should be doing it already. Talk to your kid after the class and, if necessary, punish her then. You barging in repeatedly isn’t teaching her to listen to a teacher, it’s teaching her to wait until mommy comes to tell her to behave.
I don’t have words that will magically make you feel better about all of it. Just know that there are others who have been where you are and know how freakin’ hard it is, and are sending some positive mojo your way.
My heart goes out to you! All mamas have weeks like this. It’s ok to cry. You ARE a good mama. Deep breaths, one mama-task at a time. Sometimes everything just seems to big to tackle, but you can do it.
don’t think this weird – but i truly want to get in my car and drive to you. you are sooo not failing. far from it friend. sometimes i wonder if we have to have these awful days to appreciate the good ones ever more.
hugs. and more hugs.
Hon, I remember after Chicken was born, she screamed and screamed for no reason and Giggles was about the same age the Poo is, it was hard. Hubby was gone a lot with being in the service and I was 1,000 miles away from my support system. It sucked. But looking back now I don’t remember those crazy days as much. Neither does Giggles. Just take one day at a time and know it will get better.
HUGS!
Sometimes raising kids responsibly IS a huge challenge – a burden even. Doesn’t mean that you don’t love them. Doesn’t mean that you’re a bad mom. Does mean that you’re a decent person for wanting to do right by both them and the community to which they belong. Thanks for caring, and I hope that Mr. C can spell you some this weekend and beyond so you can rest, write, and/or have regularly scheduled periods of time for self-care.
Wow, you are not alone. I feel this way often. I love my kids, but sometimes I just don’t like them. This too shall pass… I hope!!! Or so I’ve been told, but going through it, it seems like it never will. Good luck!
Oh you’re not failing!! Not at all. In fact, worse days will come! So cheer up!
I know this doesn’t sound helpful, but really, you’re SO FINE.
Kids forget. Babies get a little more stable each day. This is just – normal.
One sunny day in May this year I was walking down Newbury Street in Boston, my biggest worry what pair of fancy shoes to buy.
Then I went home to my baby and my kindergartner and my college kid, and all the trials (well, esp. in relation to that college one). I practice just “going with it”.
As soon as you can, take a night off. Breathe your own air for a while. Life is so much better now than it was on Newbury St (it’s just a money pit, really), and you just need to stand away from it a bit to see it again.
HUGS~~
Last night I stood outside my daughter’s bedroom door while she screamed and cried that she couldn’t go to sleep without a book. She was overtired and overstimulated and I was overdrawn of patience.
When she asked me this morning if I could forgive HER, I nearly lost my mind.
I don’t know how anyone does this job well. I really don’t.
*HUGS*
This too shall pass.
You’re a better mommy than you give yourself credit for.
Right now is a REALLY hard time. Three is hard, a newborn is hard, the two together is more than hard. My husband would come home to all three of us crying.
It gets better, it does, it does.
(speaking in a stern voice to a complete stranger) This too shall pass. Give yourself a break. You are a good mother, it’s just that some days are harder than others. I do think that it is important to be honest with our kids about our feelings. (good job) Tomorrow is another day.
You sound like me just after my son was born. And like me yesterday (8 months after he was born) when my 3yo daughter’s behavior drove me into a screaming, raging fit. I haven’t even been writing about any of it on my blog because I get so sad and then ashamed of my failings as a mother. Eight months later I’m still struggling with a 3yo and an infant but I can assure you that not all of my days, weeks, months are as tough now as they were those first few weeks, adjusting to having two children. Most days are good ones. Things are improving and I have to remind myself that I am not perfect. That I am learning this as I go along and that just because I’m a mother doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to feel angry or sad or that I can’t lose my shit sometimes. Mostly what I’m trying to say is that I have been where you are and I understand. It is SO hard and you can feel so sad and like these feelings won’t end, that you won’t ever get a sense of control, but they will end and things will get better.
i’ve been there too many times to count. HUGS.
Parenting is sooooo hard. soooo hard. I think you are being too hard on yourself, but I know it’s hard not to. Sending you big hugs. xox
You are not failing. I see a mother who is being consistent in the disciplining of her daughter despite the fact that the Poo is acting out because of your time with Shaggy. I think it’s admirable that you are looking beyond the immediate and seeing the potential repercussions of you not disciplining her. She’ll be fine. She’ll grow up into a secure, confident, strong woman.
Shaggy sounds like my boy. I used to drive around for 45 minutes to get him to sleep and then sit in my porch and watch the car, with the aircon on and window slightly cracked, until he woke up because if I moved his carseat he’d wake up. he needed the nap and more importantly I NEEDED him to nap. This too shall pass.
I agree with Amanda – there are so many things you can focus on. You are doing a great job. It’s not an easy one! Don’t beat yourself up about it. You are not the first and you won’t be the last mother to grab her child roughly. I have done it innumerable times…
I agree with whomever said This too shall pass. Shaggy will get older and into more of a routine. The Poo will figure out that you love her just as much as you did before. And yes life has changed. You will change with it, realizing you cannot control everything. (Remember to give me this advice in four months or so
Failing? Not by a LONG shot, my friend. Not. Failing.
Yes, I understand it feels like that, I’ve been there more times than I care to admit, too. You’re not alone and your children will be amazing just like their mama. Strong, independent, smart and loving.
Hang in there. It will get better.
Just today I was thinking how nice it was that my boys are old enough to climb in their carseats by themselves. How nice it was to not have to worry about them while grocery shopping. But it doesn’t mean I don’t remember what having a 2 year old and an infant feels like…sometimes it feels like yesterday. But if I made it, you certainly can, my friend. Hugs.
I completely understand what you are going through. My son was born last summer and I have a child 7, though older than yours, she was and still is in need of my time/attention. My son was not an easy baby, to put it gently. I had many a days and nights like you experienced yesterday. I didn’t think I could do it, be a parent to two children. I felt like I was failing. Then at around 10 weeks it started getting easier, and it continued each week to ease. Not everyday is perfect, even now, but it does get “easier”. The children, especially the older ones, adjust to the new body in the house. Hang in there.
I’m sorry that you’ve had a hard week. I can kind of relate to you, but seeing as how I’m raising dogs and not children–it’s not really the same thing. The thing is, the actually DON’T understand me!
Hope that next week is a better week for you!
hang in there …don’t foget there are some good days too!
I am so sorry. You are a great mother, and you are helping me so much by sharing this so honestly. It will get better, but I know it sucks now.
Could some of Poo’s friends be coerced into inviting her for a special playdate or something? Sounds like you need a break. Or maybe some way to earn “Big Sister Points” that add up to a special treat? It sounds like she needs some attention, but something that won’t take away from all you already have to do. A jar with something tangible you can add (dry noodles, or those glass decorative gems you use in flower vases from Walmart are things my fellow teachers have used.) Kind of like the house cup rubies at Hogwarts. I bet a Mom/Poo only trip to the Dairy Queen or something like that would be an incentive for her, and would take the pressure off you.
Hang in there. You will make it through, and she will be a wonderful, thoughtful kid, because her mom is and you are raising her that way.
OK, gotta go, mine is throwing a fit now, too. (((((Amy)))))
Failing? No way. Failing would be ignoring the behavior problems. Failing would be not caring that the child is screaming. Failing would be physically abusing either child. No you are not failing. You are living.
I think it is vitally important for our children to see us as we are warts and all. Perfectionism is an evil disease. Don’t even strive for perfect. Strive for staying a float.
Please try and stop feeling guilty. You are human.
We all have days like this. It is hard. But you are not failing. You are just human, like the rest of us.
Your love for your children is obvious in every word you write. You are doing the best you can each day, which is all any of us can do. It WILL get easier. Soon.
Three and a half? I found it to be a particularly challenging age. The good news? A month and a half into 4 years old? K is a new boy.
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise.
Oh hon, you know I know EXACTLY what this is like. This is beyond hard. Doesn’t it make you wonder why we thought it was hard having one baby at home? Compared to this it was a day in the park.
It was only one day out of all of the days you get to be their mom and you will forget this (and so will the Poo- she probably already has) so pick yourself up and dust yourself off. It can only go up from here. (At least that’s what I tell myself!)
It’s been, what? Over seven years ago for me and your post takes me right back.
So so hard.
I have to believe it will get better. My epically pathetic mothering skills have produced two kids that teachers rave about now.
No joke.
Please hang in there. ox
We all have our bad times and this is just one for you. Don’t feel so bad. I remember those times when a potty trained little girl peed on herself, while I tried to nurse a screaming a baby. It sounds like what I had only 2 short years ago and the only thing I can say is that it will get better, but it will bad sometimes, too.
At the moment, we are in a house with no power and I can’t get my kids to understand that while we have a/c, one light, fan and radio (generator) we still can’t watch TV and make grits. My son’s 2 biggest demands at the moment. I have been short and loud with both of them throughout this whole ordeal. I tried to make each day better until we are back to normal, but we are all human and can’t be perfect everyday.
I say this while my son stands next to me screaming (for about 15 minutes) for his binky. Something that we had reserved for bedtimes and car, but relaxed while evacauated. I guess I learned my lesson about keeping up with routine. Again, we all falter only to right ourselves and do better than the day before.
Good Luck
Downside to reading blogs at work: you may then end up crying at work.
You are not failing, honey. You are just being a Mom. Unfortunately it seems like we all have to go through these kinds of trials, and it is so, so hard.
I felt the same failure, guilt, horror at myself last week as my 2 year old threw the worst tantrum of his life for an hour, and in the end I was sobbing. I put my head in my hands and he slapped my hand in anger/upsetness/frustration at not being able to communicate and whatever else. I looked up, and I swatted him on the arm. It wasn’t hard, it didn’t hurt him. But nevertheless, I had placed my hand on him. He was surprised, and touched his arm and looked at me, not really knowing what had happened.
In that moment I was so completely overwhelmed and hating myself that I didn’t know what to do.
But it passed. We’re home now and he’s happy and I know he will never remember it.
I have never met you, but right now my heart aches for you, and I think I love you for writing this post. Hang in there. (HUGS)
You are not failing. You just aren’t. Your kids are safe and fed and loved. And they know it. You are not failing.
But friend, if the dark days continue, you’ll visit with your doctor, won’t you? Chat with her about how you’ve been feeling. Because while what you’re going through could well be the usual crash after pregnancy, if it’s ppd, there is no reason on earth you should not get the help that’s out there. You just shouldn’t have to feel like this, and it breaks my heart that you do.
p.s. Three is the suckiest age. It really is. It kicks two’s ass. Four comes in with rainbows and flowers, I promise.
everyone is saying it…it’s hard. it sucks. it shall pass.
advice?? (if you want it…) you and your daughter need to get away from the boys (for a little while). i found whenever my oldest (now 4…it is better) got that way after sister was born…she needed me. ME. just me. we dropped sister off at g-ma’s and went to a movie. snuggled with popcorn and laughs. held hands. she needs to be reminded that although she doesn’t need the same help as lil’ baby…that she still can get you to herself occasionally too. and you need to be reminded of how much fun she is when she’s not driving you crazy.
try it…let us know how it goes.
good luck to you. you deserve the best.
Oh Mrs. C., your description of holding Shaggy in the glider while crying, I have been there. And I’m here to tell you, and listen closely, it. gets. better. My children are 18 months, almost to the day, apart, and the first 6 months of my son’s life with my toddler daughter (also headstrong like The Poo) were by far the hardest and darkest days of my life. But I made it, and YOU. WILL. TOO. You did right by asking the Poo to go to her room and give yourself space. You have to take care of your own sanity before you can care for theirs. And know that it is ok to ask for that break sometimes, even if it means that they must learn to spend time away from you. Remember that that too is a valuable lesson….learning how to care for one’s self (through your example), and learning how to be independent. The Poo is a remarkable little girl. Shaggy is going to grow into his own very soon, and you will be surprised at how easily the rhythm of it all will come to you. In the meantime, hang in there and know that all of us moms out there who made the transition from one to two or more are with you. We hear you. And we wish you nothing but the best. You WILL make it through this. And you will be a better person and mother for it.
The bad news first: yep, this is HARD! It’s hard to be consistent with discipline, it’s hard to check oneself with just a few hours of sleep, it’s hard to be the parent of a headstrong toddler and an infant. God, some days it is REALLY hard.
But the good news is that (as all the other commenters and I say), you are not alone! In fact, this scene could have been from my house just today as well only with two boys. You are not failing; far from it. This season of life just sucks sometimes.
Hang in there, take a break when you can, and cling to the moments of sunshine when they break through.
I read your post through a veil of tears, as I know times like these. I had enough trouble with just the one child, and imagine I’d be in the same place as you with a newborn as my daughter is very headstrong and as rebellious as a toddler can be. I know all about that desperation, and I hope that tomorrow will be better.
You are absolutely NOT failing. This shit is hard, and we all deserve a little slack from time to time. Unfortunately, toddles and newborns don’t quite get this. Please know that you are doing a spectacular job raising your children, and in just a few short months all of this will be a hazy memory.
Please take care. Not just of your babies, but also yourself.
Girl, I was in EXACTLY the same place two years ago, with a newborn and a two-year-old. Even the how-do-I-breastfeed-and-potty-train issue. And the yelling. And the guilt.
Here is what I know. If you do not forgive yourself, the guilt spirals and makes the week much worse. You MUST find a space in which to forgive yourself, or you will not be able to mother. Remember that no mother is perfect, we all yell, and each day is new. The kids really do forgive.
you are not failing. you are parenting.
Sometimes it just goes that way.
Damn you are so hard on yourself!! Stop it! (I’m doing tough-love here) The fact that you even care and acknowledge that it’s hard and you aren’t doing everything “right” makes you a good mom. And you disciplining your kid and not letting her back talk you and grow up into a spoiled, bratty adult gives you extra kudos from me. I meet too many of those nowadays, of both the kid and adult variety.
Yep, it’s hard. Nothing is harder, really. So cut yourself some slack, woman! Srsly. You are right on the money on how you have to handle the Poo (though the advice above to carve out a wee bit of time all for her now and again seems wise too). I think some time all alone for you is in order as well. Even a half hour to breathe and not have anyone needing you could make a difference. Above all though, you have to be gentle with YOURSELF.
I have difficult children as well. I sometimes catch myself wishing God had given me at least one child that was easy. They can be so trying, especially my youngest, my daughter. I’ve been where you are…I’ll be there again. We just have to get up and brush off the dust.
I know this doesn’t help much but it all seems to be normal. What ever normal is really, no one knows. Just always remember that this too shall pass.
You are not a failure, I just don’t believe that. This parenting gig is freaking hard. I bet brain surgeons aren’t as stressed about doing the right thing as we are.
I have a um…spirited daughter and I’m here to tell you that she’s a different child at six than she was at three and four. Easy, no, never…but easier, mostly because she’s more in control of her emotions and knows when she has gotten on my very last nerve. The Poo will get easier and Shaggy will too. Have you considered putting her pre-school or something like it?
Hugs to you. Keep taking time for yourself, you’re still healing and adjusting and it takes time. Learning to parent two kids is an adjustment.
You are far from failing. You are struggling. There is a difference
You are NOT failing. Right now the days seem to last for weeks, and the weeks take eons to pass. However, it was just 1 day, 1 week. Next year you will not remember the awfulness of this day. Next month, your sweet girl will have no memory of your tight grip. And I promise you in three weeks it will be so much easier. Just focus on three weeks. In three weeks your baby boy will be sleeping through the night. In three weeks, the Poo will start remembering the limits you are enforcing. In three weeks your body will be healed. In three weeks your baby will be smiling and that is an incredible payoff. You can do three weeks.
I haven’t read all the other replies, so possibly I am way off-base. But I am pretty sure, based on talking to my mom and sister and friends, that this level of failure is actually the norm.
I wish you and I were in the same town, because I’d bring you over a couple beers and regale you with stories of my own parenting failures.
Shaggy isn’t even a month old. You have set the bar too high. Right now, your family is under great stress — a new baby is incredibly stressful. Therefore, your family is in survival mode. It’s black and white at this point, really — if you get to bedtime and everyone is still alive and the kids have been given the opportunity to eat, the day is a success.
You MUST lower your standards for a few more weeks. Let’s just say, until Shaggy is 6 weeks old. You can do this. You are not failing!! Your parent-of-one standards no longer apply. I promise, this gets so much easier, but also you’re not failing, and you’re normal, and you aren’t a sucky parent. Six weeks. Get him to six weeks, and then reevaluate how things are going. Right now is just survival mode, and I think that’s just fine.
Oh, I so. feel, your. pain. From a totally suck it week to a pee (or in my case, poop, come read the saga from this week, it may make you feel better) to the yelling, the crying in bed with a newborn…the whole darn thing. I’m holding out hope that as long as we love our children (which I do, most days) then we don’t ever technically fail. At least, this is what I hope number one, two, or three’s therapist will say 30 years down the road.
It passes, this difficult time, I promise.
In the next few months, this new life involving not one, but two, little people will start to feel normal.
And a few years from now, you will watch them playing together, giggling and conspiring, and you will tell yourself that it was so, so worth it.
Don’t forget you are hormonal and tired, so please no beating up on yourself. The Poo will learn to handle the new situation. This is a time of learning for her as well.
Mainly, I wanted to say that having two children isn’t twice the work… it is more.
We just do the best we can as parents, which is all we can expect of ourselves. Give them love, and things should become easier as time goes on.
You are so not failing. Kids are hard. Two kids are hard. You will all get through this. It does get easier. I promise. Hang in there. Get whatever help you need, be it babysitting, cleaning, health. And just hang in there. You don’t have to be a perfect mom right now. You just have to get through this really hard part. Worry about being a perfect mom later. Just be a mom. It will be okay.