Oh man, I am not proud to write this post, but in the name of realness, motherhood transparency & my hope to do away with the perfectionism that's so rampant among moms, let me tell you that I lost my sh*t the other night.
Before I dive in, I want to preface that I love my kids more than anything in the world and that I am generally a calm, collected, and playful person and have worked a lot on being a patient and listening parent. Most days in our house feel happy and harmonious and I do feel proud about that because it takes REAL work.
This day... THIS DAY... was not harmonious.
I was home with both boys, trying to cook dinner, while Hendrix was in the highchair and Felix was running around the kitchen table in circles -digger in one hand, dumptruck in the other- half yelling, half singing on the top of his lungs, eyeing me with a cheeky smile.
Now, if you are also blessed with an energetic toddler (& which toddler isn't?) you know what's happening: he's over-tired and up to no good.
Two minutes of circling pass by when he suddenly wipes everything from the table, including full water cups.
I realize that he needs to calm down, but dinner isn't cooking itself and I need to get Hendrix to bed, so -to my big mistake- I role my eyes, take a deep breath, throw some towels on the puddles and ignore him.
So, obviously, in good old toddler fashion, Felix keeps circling... he clearly didn't get the attention from me that he wanted.
I know I should have just taken 5 minutes with him to guide him into a calmer state, but I don't.
Next thing I know, Hendrix shrieks like the world is ending and I turn around to see Felix's little dirty fingers digging into Hendrix's helpless mouth.
This time I yell and use the tactic we've been using when Felix hits Hendrix: I tell Felix that we don't hit in our family and turn my attention to Hendrix to make sure he's ok (this is supposed to teach Felix that he doesn't get attention if he hits his little brother, but that it results in the opposite: less attention, which no toddler likes).
Felix retreats into the play corner of the kitchen, Hendrix starts chewing on a teether and I get back to the stove.
"Deep breathing, mama" I tell myself.
A few minutes later, Felix stands next to me, jumps up and lands with his legs spread wide and starts peeing on the floor right next to me.
"What the f*ck????"
I feel so stunned and overwhelmed by the mess that, I feel like encompasses my entire life at this moment, that I don't even know how to react for a few seconds until I can feel a wave of frustration and anger creeping up.
I yell at Felix that he knows better... bla bla bla...
I am furious.
He starts crying.
Hendrix starts crying.
Still pissed, I start to feel bad.
I am the adult in the room afterall and there are my two little loves crying. Ugh. The guilt pushes the anger to the side and I feel how tired I am.
Can this day just be over already?
So, you think the story ends here and this is me loosing my shit. Well, the story doesn't end and this wasn't me losing my sh*t.
It continues... Felix's food is ready and I want to re-create harmony, so I tell him he can sit on my lap and we'll eat dinner together. I think we're on the road to recovery until... wait for it, HE PEES ON MY LAP. Yes. I am not kidding. He straight up pees on me.
Then I lost it.
I jump up as I feel my son's warm bodily fluids accumulating in my lap and dripping to the floor.
Felix is still peeing as I drag him to the bathroom with pee now forming a road from the kitchen to the bathroom. "Thank god Hendrix is in the highchair," I think to myself.
I sit him on the toilet and repeat a million times that "PEE GOES INTO THE POTTY ONLYYYYYY!"
(& yes, I also know that you should never yell at your kid on the potty because it should be a positive experience... but sometimes you just cannot because that is what losing your sh*t consists of).
Meanwhile Hendrix is crying in the kitchen and I run back to him to soothe him... he really hasn't done anything, poor baby. Problem is, I forget to turn the light on for Felix in the bathroom so he also starts getting really upset -not to mention probably scared- sitting on the toilet in the dark.
Thankfully Raz comes home and I could hand the kids off to him and cool down.
Have you ever had a day like that? If yes, please do share in the comments, so I am not the only one.
I don't know if I am especially prone to feelings of guilt (I've had multiple moms, including my own mother, tell me that I have nothing to be sorry for), but I did feel some pretty severe mom guilt that night for losing my sh*t like that.
Here is what I needed to do to come back into my own equilibrium:
1. Get some space to breath.
2. Apologize to the boys. I am the rolemodel afterall.
3. Practice self-compassion. We are only human, too.
4. Reflect and see the lessons so I can handle the next situation better.
5. Start the next day with positive intention and on fresh footing.
6. Share my story with others and find the humor in it... I mean, I will be telling this story for years laughing;)
7. Sleep more and get some more time to myself. Especially if you feel like you're walking on thin ice and like your patience is running low consistently, this is a sign that you need more YOU time.
Being a mom requires more patience and endurance (your kids ain't going anywhere) than anything else, so we -collectively- have to make sure that we're fueled for the long haul.
Oh and please, do share your stories in the comments below. I'd love to hear what your little trouble makers are up to ;)