I’m tired of the blow-outs, the rages, the taunting. Who can know what will be the final trigger that will collapse it all and produce a child suddenly alien to the one you were talking to moments before? Sometimes they can last an hour, other times blowing over like an ill wind.
How do you show love, grace and patience in the face of verbal abuse? To a face furrowed with anger and eyes darkened with hate?
The worst part is that I know I can be the same. Reaching the tipping point of stress and frustration alters me too, it recasts me from ordinarily patient, thoughtful mother to crazed woman. These moments have been the cause for deep shame in the past, though I’m learning to love myself in spite of all my faults, rather than just wishing them away – stuffing them deep down where no one can ever discover them.
I wish this parenting thing was a little easier at times. That instructions would be followed without the need to repeat them ad nauseum, that bedtimes were more: ‘I love you, sleep well’ and less: ‘you are going to lose time on the iPad tomorrow if you don’t stop raging’.
This shit is hard.
This post is part of the #Write31Days challenge that I’m participating in along with a talented community of other writers. We free write for five minutes (or more) guided by a prompt. Today’s prompt is ‘blow-out’.
For more information on 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes, check out Christina Hubbard’s site!