It's parenting, Jim, but not as I know it

We're going through a trying phase at the moment.

Clingy. Highly emotional. Irrational. High strung.

No, I'm not talking about me after an episode of Masterchef where the cry baby got a second immunity pin and should have had her butt served on a plate 10 episodes ago.

I'm talking about the Toddler.

She's hysterical no matter where she's going. To Nanna's house, to day care, even if I want to go to the toilet by myself!

If I'm not there and if her Daddy's not there, all hell breaks loose. And I'm about to lose my grip on reality.

I know it's a phase. I know she'll grow out of it.

But I still want to lock myself in a cupboard and curl in the foetal position blocking my ears and singing 'lalalalalalalalalalalalalalala' until it's all over.

I'm ashamed to admit this but I'm at the point where I'm using excuses not to go to work and staying home with her on day care days to avoid the drama. Because it's my fault. If I didn't work full time - hell, if I didn't work, full stop - she wouldn't have to go to day care.

I've tried it all. Reassurance, being calm, being firm, staying with her as long as I can, leaving quickly, letting her sleep where she chooses, being firm that she's a big girl and needs to sleep in her own bed, reward charts, praise and encouragement.

And when I say 'I', I mean 'I'. The Guru has the luxury of leaving at a dumb hour of the morning to get to work and getting home at an even dumber hour.

I'm pissed off about that - and being pissed off is not helping me get through this.

I feel guilty for that. He works full time and does everything he can to keep our family comfortable. He's just been promoted to a Department Manager, and I know it's demanding. So why do I feel like all that's not enough? It should be, right?

I feel so alone. I feel like I'm doing this on my own. And I don't like it.

But her behaviour. Oh, god, her behaviour. I blame myself for the tantrums. I blame myself for her not wanting to sleep in her own bed, for not being confident that, when I drop her off, I will come back. I tell her that all the time, I tell her that I will always come back.

I'm so tired all the time, I don't have the energy to always follow through. Tears and puppy dog eyes are enough for me to cave.

I'm ruining her. I had such a stern upbringing that now I'm afraid if I even raise my voice she'll have terrible memories like I do. I don't want her to look back on her childhood sadly - I want her to remember how it was always awesome.

I'm screwing it all up - it's such a mess and I have no one to blame but myself.

I'm so very, very tired. Tired of the tantrums. Tired of feeling damned if I do and damned if I don't. Tired of not knowing what to do. Tired of feeling lonely.

Just so damn tired.

This isn't pretty

Today - today is a bad day.

Today is the result of ignoring my needs and not being 'good'. I may or may not have stopped taking my anti-depressants suddenly on Wednesday because I ran out and haven't gone to the chemist to re-fill my script.

I know this is bad. I knew it when I took the last tablet on Wednesday night and told myself to take my script, put it in my handbag so I could re-new the following day.

I knew it was bad when I didn't follow through with the thought, and allowed myself to be distracted by the other stuff I had running through my head at the time.

I knew it was bad when I could feel myself drifting back into the old hate-spiral again.

And so, here I am. On a bad day. A day I brought on myself. A day where my office door is closed because I don't want to see anyone. Because if someone says something to me I'm likely to react in an unexpected way. Bursting into tears or getting worked up for no reason are the two options right now.

The following is an email I just sent to my poor husband;

"I am really feeling off today – anxiety is at an all time high, same with jittery nerves and over the top reactions to everything. High strung = me. I’m even sitting here wanting to cry just thinking about the state of the house and how I know if I go and clean it, it will just go to shit all over again and I’m a complete failure for spending yesterday on the couch instead of cleaning when I wanted to clean but I was so tired, but I shouldn’t be tired because that’s just a sign of weakness and being totally useless.


People keep telling me that I did a good job over the weekend and I can’t accept anything nice about myself – I feel like it’s all lies and I’m a big fat idiot.

Today is a bad day...I have my office door shut because I just want to hide and not see anyone. I’m just really off today...really, really off.

And now you’re going to think I’m insane and crazy and divorce me and take "E" away and never speak to me again."

And that's exactly what's flowing around my head. How stupid, useless and pointless I am.

I had to work over the weekend, at an education conference we put on for all our doctors and nurses. I started at 7am and finished at 6pm. I did my job. I don't feel I did it especially well, I don't feel I did anything extraordinary. I was there with other colleagues who had to work too. I worked the hours I had to. I often have to work late during the week because of the education events I facilitate.

So when my Manager came in and gave me movie tickets as a thank you for my efforts, I had a hard time accepting them. And I cried after she left my office.

Because I feel like a fraud. That I don't deserve it. They think I didn't go the the gala ball on Saturday night because we had prior plans. The truth is I couldn't face being in a room full of medical professionals who might spot that I'm a freak, that I'm unstable and an unfit mother/wife/worker/part of human society. And I felt like I hadn't earnt my right to be in that room full of people who do such amazing things every day.

When I look at myself I see someone who should be grateful that she hasn't been found out.

But it's only a matter of time before it all falls apart and the world discovers what a horrible person I am. What a failure I am.

Yes, today is a bad day, and I know it.

But no matter what I do, there is always that small voice that says I'm not worth it. That I'm stupid and ridiculous for needing medication to be 'normal'. That I should just be able to do it, I should just be able to be happy.

Be normal.

Be like everyone else and stop being so stupid.

However, I know I need to listen to the voice that says it's not a waste of money for me to be in the chemist and getting my script re-filled. That it's all okay and that this is only happening because I didn't think about myself.

Ugh - it all sounds so selfish and self centred though. This whole post it self centred and childish. This entire blog if full of me, me, me and no one else. And right now I hate myself for that.

No wonder the truth is so hard to come by. No wonder it all hurts so much - when you're stuck in a repetitive cycle and one thought simply leads into another, building on themselves until you're so full of self disgust you can't find a single happy thought.

Thank god I'm not Peter Pan. I'd be a human meteor.

Shape Up - Week 8

Oh god - in 40 mins I am due to meet Guuuurlfriend for a gym session.

What I'd really rather do is go to the shop, grab a coke, a Crunchie bar and veg at my desk with the collection of catalogues and gossip mags I've accumulated (I am a catalogue whore...I love them and the potential spending power they have over me...).

Maybe I'll do that anyway - after I've hoofed my butt up a steep hill with my cheeks flapping in the wind as the g-force rips them from my face.

But by then it will feel like I've put in all that effort for nothing.

But I want to eat it - I don't care - but I do care - I don't want to eat it...

WHY ARE HABITS SO HARD TO BREAK!? Why does caffeine and sugar in all it's red-labeled, fizzy glory have such a hold over me?

Why do Crunchie bars have to look longingly at me as I pass them by?

Why does the fact that I'm getting results, and I am starting to see them in myself, not help to motivate me right now?

Why am I not a tofu eating, yoga doing, tree hugging, vegetarian hippie-type with not even a hint of cellulite??

Why?

Because I love coke and Crunchie bars. And if I ate tofu outisde of a Thai noodle dish I think my mouth would close over and lose faith that I could choose food for myself anymore, and the job needs to be designated to a more responsible adult.

Okay...now it's 32 minutes until I have to go...

And I've not done my measurements again this morning, so I will have to update either tonight or tomorrow.

It all depends on how shagged I am after putting up the Christmas Tree tonight.

Alright, I'm going...really, I am...

And I may or may not walk past the shops.

Can I get a 'Halleluja' in the house?!

So today I'm home with a sick child - although this is a whole new level of sick I didn't think I'd have to deal with.

Croup. It's as sucky as it sounds.

Suddenly I have an insight into the worry the mother of a child with asthma might have.

But when they mentioned whooping cough I think my heart nearly fell out of my backside.

Thankfully we didn't have to go down that road - and personally, I am of the opinion that croup is bad enough.

So the coughing and blocked airways mean sleep is a thing of myth around here right now...and I couldn't send her to daycare in good conscience just to go to work so I am home caring for my poor Penguin.

We're both still in our pyjamas - and yes, it is 2pm. And a very, very silly part of me thought that today would be a great day to try and clean out the tupperware cupboard and organise the toy box.

Yeah, even I'm not sure what I've been inhaling.

So when the local postie roared up our driveway and almost did a burn out on the pavers and then proceeded to further announce her arrival by sitting on her horn, it was all I could do to stop myself from flying out the door and ripping her head off before spitting down her neck. Which would have been a truly amazing sight to behold. A crazed, sleep deprived parent in pyjamas that are thinning in all the wrong places, boobs flying around as I don't have my boulder-holder on to strap them down and a face that could frighten small children, all while foaming at the mouth.

Yeah - awesome I tell ya.

It was a bloody good thing she had a fabulous surprise in her satchel...or there would have been hell to pay.

And can you believe it - I won a $20 voucher from KMart from the blogging promotion they did. You can look back on my post of magnificence here.

I seriously never win anything - so this has put me on a high that will take some time to die down...it's on the same level as getting my license and getting engaged. And I've made the most of bragging rights with the Guru.

And following this great moment in time was a phone call from the photographers who did the Toddler's photoshoot for a book a couple of months ago. And the photo's we ordered are in! Oh yeah!!

The only thing that could make today better would be for the Toddler to get some quality sleep - because this Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde act is doing my head in. I just want my everyday, tempermental Toddler back.

Oh, Wonders of the World...there are just so many...

I have discovered that there are some wonderful things in this world that have completely escaped me. And no, I'm not talking about the Pyramids or the 12 Apostles (although there's fewer and fewer of those left! I think it's a race with Venice to see who will be swallowed by the ocean first...my money is on Venice...).

I have discovered the joy of Gumption!

You know the stuff I'm on about. It comes in a small white tub with a bright yelow lid and has green writing.

It's fabulous. And I've found that if I can't Gumption it, then chances are nothing other than fire or napalm will be getting it off. Sadly, I'm not allowed to use fire to clean ('Fair enough!' I hear you say...) and napalm may or may not be completely unethical.

Although when it comes to ants, I would love to have one of those flame throwers. I'm just saying.

And so I'm thinking that I will be happy forever as long as they continue to manufacture this tub of wonderful-ness. The day it stops being made I may go into withdrawls and sit in the corner with my last tub rocking it back and forth like a baby. Snarling at anyone who tried to crowbar it from my arms.

The result won't be pretty.

Another wonder that I've discovered is the power of water with my little swiffer-mop thingy. I don't think there is a single hard surface that thing can't make shine - I'd even put bets on a swiffer-mop vs. concrete!
I do like to use boiling water with it though. Just for the additional germ killing power of scorching hot water. And in the absence of any chemicals, scorching water is just not negotiable. And if it's hot enough to melt the tiles, then so much the better.

And I know I sound like a germophobe and that i must have my family wrapped in plastic. But I am a very firm believer in letting your child go out and get dirty. How on earth do you build immunity if you're never exposed to things!? Hence my pro-immunisation stance too.

But that fact aside, just because I think dirt is fine outside, doesn't meant I am prepared to live in a house with filth encrusted floors. We live in the 21st Century, not the 1st.

Be honest. Do you truly think that if people had a choice back then they would have seriously been happy with straw on the floor and soot everywhere from the fire? No, they wouldn't. Were it available, you know full well the housewives of the time would have been whipping the Dyson out from the laundry cupboard and hoovering all the floors and walls and telling her husband and children to keep their filth outside until she's done. She would have been putting Ambi-Pur all over the house to kill off the stench from the yard wafting in and she would have been cleaning all those stubborn stains with Gumption. And then proceeding to shine the floors with boling water and her swiffer-mop.

I'll admit, there may be some flaws with my thought, but...meh!

I am finding it increasingly difficult to stay awake at the moment. The Toddler still isn't 100% and we're still not even slightly unpacked. Difficult nights and moving house are a shite combination. Just to give you the heads up.

And on that note, I am going to try and shuffle my way to the shop for some lunch and liquid life (aka Coca Cola!) and hopefully make it through the day and home before crashing into a deep sleep.

Oh, feather down pillow and quilt...where are you when I need you...?

Exhaustion. The crippling state of our family.

Our entire family is a wreck. Some would say this is poetic justice on the Toddler for all the sleep deprivation dished on us during her first few colic-y weeks of life.

I simply look at it as a week that has decided to be the longest in history. With fewer night time hours available. And more boxes to pack than usual.

Thankfully box packing is done for now - the removalists came in today and hauled our stuff away in a HUGE-arse shipping container to be stored until we're ready for it. The tragic thing about this event is that we filled this 30ft continer to the absolute max. There isn't a space in there that doesn't have our crap stuffed into it. I believe it may actually be an oxygen free shipping container...it simply couldn't fit in there.

And that wasn't even all of it.

Nope - we still have a tonne of clothing and food and knicknacks and other items that just didn't make it to the packing process. And that may or may not have been my lack of motivation. But no point in sobbing over that now - what's done is done and what's not packed is not packed. I'll just have to hoof it over to my parents. Who, incidentally, are ever so kindly putting us up until we get the keys to our new place...

Thank god for parents with space to spare!

So the Guru has had this week off to try and get the packing finished off (and with my help on Tuesday), but as I've had to work evenings this week on top of regular days, I've been very little help thus far. The guilt has set in and is slowly eating away at me. Which is lovely as it'll give me something to dwell on while I'm sitting at work tonight in a room full of midwives discussing birth plans.

And to add to the seemingly never ending state of 'stuff to deal with' this week, the Toddler has started to bite and hit. Oh toddlerdom, I wondered when you would grace our family with your presence. Any particular reason why you felt this week was a good week to corrupt my child and start something!? Honestly - did you not call my PA and double check for conflicting drama's?? Because I have a few on the boil and yours is just not welcome right now. Speak to my PA and she'll book you in. Please don't be offended if she offers to call you back in 12 months.

And it's awful because I am so not a disciplinarian. When the Toddler first tried to bite I got down to her level and sat eye to eye with her and explained how it was not okay to bite. And I got big, blue puppy eyes and a cutesy little girl voice say to me 'Noah bite!?'. Now, in these 2 words our daughter managed to say to me (in my head) 'but Mummy, Noah at Day Care bites, and I thought since he got to do it I would join in. Are you sure it's not okay? Did I mention someone else is doing it?' And have you noticed the chaos in our home at the moment?? We're living in a nungle of boxes and everyu day my room seems to be missing more and more items. Daddy took apart my cot and now I just have a mattress! What's with that!? Can you at least speak to me first before you do things like this!? And also, that silly tape gun, well, it's got to go. The noise it makes is terrible and quite frightening for me so I would really prefer if all these boxes and everything could just go away and I could have my normal life back'.

Yes, it was a full and frank discussion from our darling daughter and I completely understood. And while I do fully acknowledge that this last month has been extremely hard on her, I still can't accept it as a good enough reason to let her bite and hit. At the end of the day it's still not okay.

I would like the earth to swallow me up at this point. And I am so embarrassed because I had this illusion in my head that I would never have a child who would bite or hit or do anything hurtful to anyone else and that I would be one of these perfect mothers who never has to use the 'naughty spot' (of which I'm thinking we'll have to have one...). And the worst thing is I am the only one I know of with a child who does this. Our God-daughter's don't do things like this. So it's obvious proof that I'm a rubbish Mum. If I was home 24/7 she wouldn't do this.

Sigh - could the Universe PLEASE not throw my working mother issues in my face right now!? Honestly, why does one thing always have to lead into another, and another and another until I am so emotionally crippled I can barely lift my head!

I mean, I work because I choose to. I work because I would like to be able to do certain things in our lives together and the way to get that to happen is for me to contribute to the household. I don't begrudge working or the benefits that it has given us. What I do miss is the time with the Toddler and the Guru and I look back on my maternity leave with intense fondness. And while I know that Day Care is very good for the Toddler developmentally and socially (excluding the biting demonstrations!), I still feel like I'm not meeting all her needs and that I'm shirking my responsibility of being her Mum by leaving her with other people.

I know that all sounds completely insane, but it's hard to ignore those few opinions in the world of  'well, if you have to or choose to work then you shouldn't have had a child because you are selfish' and 'Day Care is just an excuse for working women to have other people raise their child for them because they don't want to'.

Yeah, well - I'd very much like to live in your perfect world and as much as the 1950's sound a treat I'm quite happy here with my advanced technology and women's rights!

But at the end of the day there is that part of me that wonders all the time if I am doing the right thing. And I guess it will be there for the rest of my life. Because working parent or not, I think every mother in the world questions everything she does because we have this un-ending need to know we are doing everything right by our children and our family. And that's becauee they are #1 with us all the time.

And that's what makes us awesome mothers.