Its okay #1

If you’re a parent you have been here:  You’re stuck on the lounge room floor wrestling a squirming, patience-testing child from a pooh-ridden nappy whilst trying to stop them from stepping in it. Meanwhile, your elder child is thirsty and would like a glass of milk, and you are calling from the other room…” just wait for Mummy, I’ll be there in a minute….  just wait..”  But no, you call in vain. Because your cocksure and fixated eldest impatiently insists on pouring their own milk. And, of course, they either miss the glass completely, or fill it till it pours over the top and on to the breakfast clad table. Or, they may simply upturn the carton onto the kitchen floor… did you know that it is ok to cry over spilt milk: all the rules bend with only 3 hours of sleep. Have you been there?

Then you may have been here too: You Blow Your Top…the soda bottle of emotion you were trying to keep corked explodes and for one barking minute you get mad: Really mad …and it feels nice, sorta.

It is a relief… sorta… for a second. However, there is now milk on the floor, a poohey nappy in your hand and two hysterical children to deal with, as well as a lovely, shiny, new coat of guilt surrounding you.

It is ok to loose it, but as with everything else moderation is the key, though the guilt is always pretty useless. Let’s face it; the kids shoulda listened to Mum. Today they learnt that if you push and push and push and push Mum will loose it. They learnt that everyone has their limit.

Having said that, it didn’t really solve anything. I know kids have no concept of  “I’ll be there in a minute”, they seem to think that it means never and now they’re both stressed out and crying. So, after I’ve disposed of the nappy and whilst trying to clean my hands and the floor- I also have to comfort everyone or tolerate the noise. However, despite all that, it is still ok to blow your top.  You are human. Me too.

 Sometimes I think we, (this generation of parents), have inherited a whole lotta crap parenting malarkey, (namely guilt).  Maybe because we are so aware of the “mistakes” generations behind us made. I mean, I don’t know about you but growing up I heard all about the misconceptions of my grandparent’s time. Or, maybe it is political correctness gone mad. Maybe it is because there is a wad of books and telly shows and articles that tell us what is best for our child, (or in other words: here is what you are doing wrong).

I don’t know, but the pressure to be perfect can feel huge because you know- who wants to stuff up their kids?

A little while ago my son was crying about something and to distract and console him I offered him a ginger nut  bickie. “Tsk tsk,” said a snarky judgemental voice in my head. “you’re creating an emotional eater here”. Then another, more defiant, voice piped, (rather boldly for a piping voice) “lord woman get a grip…”

Because, you see that defiant voice realised that with adulthood comes the rather wonderful notion of responsibility, (at least it is meant to). To have responsibility, one must also “take” responsibility. It is with this in mind that the only thing I really hope for my children is that they become comfortable adults who can perhaps forgive their folks or at least get the fuck over it.
It would also be nice if they got really, really, really wealthy and took their ma and pa on exotic holidays in far off tropical islands. Saving that growing up and being able to get over it is a good place to be.

R U OK

Remember in the last post I said I would write about "loosing it"? I was referring then to blowing ones cork in the line of parental duty. However, as it is R U OK Day in Australia,  I have decided to write briefly on a different loosing it instead. And one that is still OK to do.

A quick bit of background information is necessary here.
First: in the words of Eve Ensler "I am an emotional creature".
Second: three months ago I discovered I was pregnant. It explained a few things: like why I hadn't had a period, (don't look at me like that: I commonly didn't since having two kids) and my reactions to certain situations which had felt extreme to say the least.

I was stunned: why hadn't I noticed? Is this what we wanted? This was my third pregnancy, how would I cope...... I would have three kids under 5... How would we all cope?  And then the first trimester tireds kicked in, followed by mild nausea, then anger, followed by listlessness, followed by joylessness, followed by fear; nightmares and a deepening deadening numbness.

Meanwhile, my brain had upped and left me floundering. I couldn't remember; couldn't think straight, the shopping was a struggle...everything was a struggle. I couldn't write or draw or even begin to do the Saturday Sudoku.  Everyday was a fight and the fighting spirit in me was dissolving.

That is when the tears began: long, long hours of unstoppable tears...................... Yup, that's how it was folks. So, in a moment of desperation I looked up the signs of anti-natal depression and found I was exhibiting 10 out of 12 symptoms....that was confronting. (I found the information at PANDA though I was stunned by how little information there was on depression during pregnancy). I booked a doctors appointment: I didn't want to be like this anymore and certainly not when my baby was born.

The doctors wasn't great, she prescribed me anti-depressants. I am not against medication, but it wasn't the path I wanted to take, especially without the guidance and support of professional help and a detailed explanation of the effects to my unborn child. I went home: numb and foggy and I did as many of us would in this situation -I rang my MUM.

During the day my Mum had elicited some great advice from a colleague which was basically that three pregnancies and two year long stints of breastfeeding is tough on a body. And with baby getting first dibs on your body's goodies, (think fatty acids and vit d etc etc) she recommended a naturopath. I went, I got loaded up with vitamins and I almost immediately felt better. There was either some ripper placebo magic at work or truth to the advice my mum had got. I still get moody and I still, (if i get tired) have some pretty full on mood drops: but everyday I get better.

It is why I started writing this blog: some days you don't want to hear how fabulous someone's life is and how happy they are, (other days you do). I wanted a place that had a different tone. One that acknowledged the difficulty, loneliness and the sometimes isolation. One that never used the word fabulous and one that said it was OK to not be perfect, together and happy all the time even if only to convince myself.

So in the spirit of R U OK Day I am breaking the film of silence that so often covers these experiences: I reiterate- it is OK to loose it. But do seek help if you do, if you can. And don't flog yourself. You do that and I'll continue to learn the importance of vulnerability and surrender; as well as drinking lots of water and listening to the Beatles: because that seems to help.

So, does dancing and yelling at the radio news..

why you ask?

I blog hop: you know kill precious time by flopping about on the intraweb reading and exploring the oft narcissistic blogs of others, (tis the nature of the medium : I get that...I participate in that), but I get sooooo fed up ..... stupid perfect mums who knit and have immaculate hair, pale blogs with pretty things on them and eco friendly everything and  pushbikes and fancy holidays and a disposable income..... This is why. I get peeved: bewitched, bothered and bewilded. Next post; the validity in loosing it.... it is ok you know

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 Can you blog with three kids? Can you do anything with three kids?..well, anything else then wipe, harangue, encourage, wipe, cajole, feed, wipe, catch, corner, wipe, smile…wanly, and drink cold tea? I suppose I’ll know in 5 months or so.....I will keep you posted. Its a quiet home bound today but it isn't sleep is it....