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.