No matter how good your life is, sometimes things are shit and you’re entitled to a good whinge, a good cry and a big god damn piece of cake.
Being a mum is hard. It tests even the most patient of people. And patience is not something that I was given in my DNA. Yesterday took the cake. I yelled at my adorable nearly 2 year old, Sophie, so much that my throat hurt and I’m waiting for Docs to knock on my door any minute as I’m sure the whole neighbourhood heard me screaming time and time again, I’VE HAD ENOUGH, STOP DOING THAT. DO. YOU. WANT. A. SMACK.
After chasing Sophie up the stairs 50 times (at nearly 30 weeks pregnant) and cleaning up the dog biscuits she’d thrown sky high in the air from not only the dogs bowl but also the handfuls she’d emptied from the tub in the pantry I lost my shit. Combined with the DVDs she unpacked from the entertainment unit coupled with the fact she smeared dirty little chubby handprints all over the TV and climbed behind the lounge to flick the lamp on a thousand times and I was at breaking point. Sitting in the pantry balling my eyes out, life farking sucks, breaking point.
Even the 6 pieces of lemon slice I’d consumed didn’t make me feel better. Oh and I dare you to judge me.
And did I mention that for the last couple of days Sophie has decided that her 2 hour day time nap (my 2 hours of regaining some sort of sanity) was not on the agenda. Um, clearly I didn’t get that memo.
You see sometimes life throws us unexpected stresses, none of which I need to go into, but everyone has them. And clearly we all cope differently, some better than others. And yesterday for me was a non coping day. And yes, I’m going to partly blame pregnancy hormones because at only 10 weeks to go I’m getting bigger, more uncomfortable and therefore more easily pissed off.
This morning after making my morning coffee (decaf for those playing along at home) I turned around to find my darling husband had poured extra milk into my cup. You’d think he’d just told me he was having an affair I was so pissed off. So I snapped at him then shoved my cereal into my mouth to shut myself up and daren’t look him in the eye for fear of bursting into tears over a farking cup of coffee.
But then you pull yourself together, get yourself out of the house and think of all the good things. Yes we’re lucky to have a lovely home, a lovely family, with a gorgeous little girl who most of the time is well behaved, and just at a stage where she’s pushing the boundaries.
But when things are shitty it’s ok to have a vent, a big fat cry and consume a shit load of sugar.
Now where’s my piece of cake gone…
This post is dedicated to all the mums who are having a shit day, have yelled at their kids and then felt so guilty for it, and have consumed their body weight in sugar at least 4 times this week. Don’t worry, you’re not alone.