We all have bad days.

Thursday, 4 July 2013

I can't really remember when it started, but after I became a Mum, there are days when I feel that my patience and self worth are stretched beyond their limits. Especially now that the Mookid (I really should stop referring to him as BabyMoo, cos he ain't no baby no more) is in the midst of discovering more about the world around him, asserting his independence, and pushing boundaries.

I've kept my temper against his outbursts. I've chased after him, yelling at him to please stop running, while trying to avoid crashing into other people. All manner of 'coolness' and grace have long since been defenestrated because it's just that much easier to stop caring about what people think when we're trying to ensure that the little chimp is within sight and safe in crowded places.

I've loved and loved unconditionally, no matter how demanding he is. He gets angry, loses his temper, and throws a toddler tantrum. I've picked up after him, kept his toys a gazillion times, only to have them strewn about again the moment my back is turned. I've learned to tune the whining and groaning out so much so that it simply becomes background noise, and after awhile, it almost has the same impact as watching white noise on an old black and white tv screen with tired eyes. In slow motion.

I think I've been reasonable in most instances, especially when the kid is bent on being unreasonable most times for the sake of going against what his parents say. I've taken deep breaths and reminded myself countless times that I'm the grown up round these parts, and it's best to act like one even though there have been many times I've been tempted to throw a bigger tantrum than the little Boss with the 'big' personality does.

Some days I get by. Some days.

Other days I just want to curl up in bed with the blinds drawn, the lights down, and wallow. Better still if the room is sound proofed, so I can simply exist in an almost vacuum like space, because I can't remember the last time I was actually able to 'hear' myself think.

Then there are days when I let it out. I yell my head off, so the kid and I have a screaming match with no time limitations. I scream and let all the anger out. I try to keep my emotions in check. I walk away, take a deep breath, and the husband thankfully takes over when these things happen. He doesn't judge, because he knows that we are both trying to do our best, but sometimes it angers me more when I see that he is able to achieve what I've been trying to get the kid to do for the umpteenth time with just one sentence.

I am not proud to admit that it feels good. It feels almost liberating, somehow, and please don't give me the crap stuff about trying to keep emotions in check and being level headed all in the pursuit of positive parenting.

Then you know that mocking voice which always drops by when you least want it to? That voice which tells you point blank that you're not cut out to be a mother after all. It tells you that you're lousy at this parenting business, and no matter what you do - you'll never be a great Mum. During these times, like a scene from a B-grade horror flick, it fills the chambers of my mind. I can almost hear the mocking laughter which accompany the taunts, and all puffed up pride I have managed from seeing the kid meet milestones, grow healthy and happy - disappears into thin air.

We all want to be that 'cool, level headed, she-has-it-all-together' mum. We all want to be better Mums, better role models for our kids. But we are all still human, after all... with our own demons to conquer and our powerful emotions to handle. We need to be loved, we need to vent, we need to be understood, and we need to be who we are.

All this 'being adult' business can take its toll on us. When we're adults all the time, we can sometimes forget to see things from a child's eyes.

It's okay to have bad days. It's perfectly fine to have bad moments in an otherwise good day. I stopped listening to that silly voice which didn't do anything at all but just make me doubt my self worth. I walk away, have a cake, coffee, and just breathe. When the anger passes, there will be nothing there but love. We get mad because we care about them too much. We want them to learn the right things, do the right things and behave the right way, because society can be ultra demanding. We don't want them to whine or scream or be the kids that they are, because 'well-behaved' kids don't do that. That is utterly subjective - and fodder for conversation for another day.

Today I remind myself - parenting is hard work. It's perhaps the only business in the world which brings more laughter, joy, tears and sorrow to a person than deemed ever possible. A gamut of emotions which take you on a roller coaster ride to eternity and beyond, because no matter how old they are, you will never, ever stop worrying about them. Or loving them, regardless of what they do.

We all have bad days. But bad days don't make us bad mothers. It just keeps us going, living, and learning to be a better one.


  1. *Big rounds of applause*
    You are certainly not alone. There are good days and not so good days/moments.

    I've had both my kids scream all the way from the park to home, when we were in Singapore they screamed from one end of VivoCity to the other, their tantrums lasting up to 45 mins at a time, etc.

    Parenthood is certainly not for the faint-hearted. The love we have for our children certainly unconditional. Above all, we are human.

  2. Aww hugs. It's ok to have bad days. We're human! Hope you're feeling better!



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