What kind of mom feels this way about their kids?
Hmmmm. Doesn't that sound like I am about to wax eloquent citing all the fabulous things about my son and daughter and you'll think, 'I wish my kids we as fabulous as that?' Nope. Not going to happen. I mean, my kids are fabulous and I probably need a big fat reminder of that, but that is not what's on my mind and in my heart today. If you have stopped by my blog more than once, you probably know that Grace can be challenging, evidenced here, here and here (#5), and probably lots of other places - or if you've met me, ever.
Weekday mornings at the Wilson house are AWFUL, seriously really bad. If we got Grace up at 5ish she may be ready enough to go out the door at 6:30 with minimal screaming, possibly. And food is always a fight, too. Now Grace is sick with that hacking, deep cough and congestion and was up in the middle of the night. She, like her sibling was, seems to only half wake up in the night when something is wrong, leaving her pretty unreasonable & inconsolable, and this happened again last night. Micheal and I were both up with her, getting cool drinks, Kleenex & cold medicine. Strangely, the cold meds, that tasted just fine before bed, are now icky and taste bad and she's 'scared to take it.' This situation quickly degrades, like many mornings and the discussions after them, into a heated discussion (argument - ever have these in the middle of the night or is that just us?) over the best way to handle this - we are SO on opposite ends of the spectrum of parenting and I freely admit that I am the less merciful, less sensitive, no nonsense parent. To be clear, I am not merciless, I am just more about, 'Yep, this is unpleasant so let's just push through it to get to the better stuff and everyone will be happier, faster.' This can apparently appear uncaring and cold, Grace likes to choose Micheal's methods over mine and is vocal about it.
It hurts. And I'm sick of the argument, sick of feeling wrong and tired of feeling like I look like a bitch. And so last night at around midnight I left Micheal with Grace on the couch and went back to bed. I laid awake for a long time thinking, 'I hate her. I hate how she hurts me, I hate how I think she makes me look bad, I hate all of this! What kind of mother hates her child?' The dictionary defines hate as: to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest.
What kind of mom feels this way about their kids?
I love her intensely, at the same time I passionately dislike her, and I am ashamed. I don't know how to fix it, how to make any of it better, how to get on the same page with Micheal in our parenting, how to love her the way God wants me to. Is there guilt here that I need to hear? Or shame I need to cast off?
What kind of mom feels this way about their kids?
I bet most moms feel like this about their kids at one point or another. I know lots of times, in my head, I am thinking how one or the other of them makes me sick. :( I just think that we are moms but also HUMANS with human flaws and God knows this. I don't think anyone in the world can make us as angry as our family but also they are the only ones that make it worth it all. I appreciate your honesty, Kathy. Also, middle of the night discussions? OH YEAH. :) We totally decided years ago that what happens in the middle of the night stays in the middle of the night, though. There's not another time that we can see each other a few hours after saying or doing horrible things and act as though nothing happened and have it be okay with both of us. I don't know if that is good or bad but night time parenting is really hard and we are both only good at it up to a point.
ReplyDeleteI'm done rambling. xoxo
Thanks, Steph! I appreciate your encouragement - LOTS!
ReplyDelete"What kind of mom feels this way about her kids?"
ReplyDelete...how about "All moms." And dads. Congratulations for acknowledging the desperate, guilty, smash-mouth feeling it is to admit it. ...And then, just cool it on the "nomenclature." Words matter. And the "Hate" word is so loaded. Just like "Love." Both have become so loaded in our language they barely mean anything. ..For example, the word "love" is an Old French derivative. It's a verb, originally. It has evolved to an adverb, a noun, an adjective... It is thought of as an "emotion" (it isn't.)One can "love" their spouse and "love" their Green Bay Packers and "love" their artichoke dip and "love" their kids all at the same time. So, when we tell our kids--or anyone else--we "love" them, we often, say more, in order to define further what we mean, ie: "I love you, Sweetheart. You are so generous with your time and energy..." and so on. Same with "Hate." One can "hate" Satan and Saddam Hussein and Adolf Hitler and pineapple on pizza all at the same time. So, it means nothing, practically. Which makes it easier, more self-acceptable to say "I hate my kids." No you don't. You're frustrated with your kids or, perhaps more accurately, you're frustrated with your kids, your husband, the tension aroused in the interfamilial relationship and the insecurities it calls up...and so on. But "hate" is not a good descriptor of how you feel about your kids any more than "love" is a good descriptor of how I feel about the Athena Pizza at Pizza Luce. (Yum.)
-par