Today I dropped the F-Bomb.
I couldn’t even tell you why. I guess it was just an accumulation of stuff. This was even after The Mothership gave me a pep talk the other day after I confessed to feeling like I do a rubbish job at this parenting lark. Maybe loudly swearing in front of my children wasn’t my finest moment, but as my wise mum told me, I’m only human.
Little Reds geneticist appointment next week is weighing heavily on my heart. So has chasing up her NDIS application and sorting her new orthotics. To top it off, Michael has been working away this week. Little Man has been challenging because of it, and the girls seem a bit more defiant than usual too.
At LM’s swim class this morning, after a particularly tiring night, the girls decided they weren’t going to behave. We had climbing over bleachers, sticking faces through railings to swimmers in the other pool, unpacking bags and generally being double trouble. With two minutes to go, and with a packed house watching, they stood next to each other and proceeded to take their clothes off. Everyone around me laughed and I chose to pick my battles. Getting to the car is another story altogether.
These aren’t excuses, however. I’m utterly embarrassed about being unable to stop myself before an exasperated FFS left my lips.
BUT, I can acknowledge the fact that I’m trying my hardest. I’m doing the best to my abilities, even when pushed to the end of my patience. Yes, it might not be something I necessarily want people knowing, but I’m sharing this story because it’s real, honest and to give a pep talk of my own. Here goes…
1. Even those people who seem the most polished and patient will occasionally have their moments.
2. You’re not a bad person or parent for stuffing up once in a while. Personally, raising children is the hardest job I’ve ever had. (And it is a job, because I have to continually work at it.)
3. If you’re having a bad day, the kids are being monsters or you simply woke up exhausted, please know that everyone is in the same boat. Don’t worry about being the perfect parent because you’ll always find a story in the imperfections.
For example, I wonder how many people are telling their friends and spouses about the hilariously cute twins who stripped off at swimming… Hopefully they don’t describe me as looking dead inside.