Before I start this properly, this isn’t a ‘poor me’ post. I am not looking for sympathy, I’m just being very, very honest about the lows of parenting, and how some days can be lower than others.

As you know from my previous post, this week was about exams and CAMHS, and so was bound to be stressful for our youngest. What I failed to acknowledge was how stressful it was going to be for me. At the moment, while the rational part of my brain sees two amazing humans who have no desire to be round pegs, and embrace their skware-peginess (???) the irrational part of my brain is currently seeing that we have two children who have barriers to accessing education that has necessitated help from CAMHS. When I was pregnant with both of them, and I was making plans for their future, spending time at the Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services department of a hospital didn’t feature at all.  As I talked about in a previous blog (skwarepegrowndhole.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/17/), there is an huge amount of guilt at times when you are an SEN parent, and all those feelings are very close to the surface at the moment.

I am also trying to build and develop a new business venture at the moment, trying to fit everything I do around family, revision, trips to buy suits and everything else that has been normal in our family this week. I am putting extra pressure on myself, but it’s something I really want to do. I stopped working full time 21 years ago when I went on maternity leave, and although I have worked part time for the last 20.5 years, I have chosen not to apply for promotions or new jobs as the boys were my priority. However, they are now 12 & 20, and I am only in my 40s, so feel that this is my time to push what I want to do, and drive my ideas and dreams into reality.

Now you know the backdrop to this week, I need to admit & confess what happened last night. I came home from a day teaching to a full dishwasher, a sink full of pots and pans, dry washing waiting to go on in the washing machine, and (and this sounds so silly now), our eldest had eaten the wrong frozen fish, and had had a double portion for his lunch (and hadn’t washed the baking tray he’d cooked them in). Well, I released the inner banshee and I heard myself shouting, stamping and ticking every ‘bad parenting’ box I could manage. I calmed down, both boys were summoned, and all the washing up was done.

Fast forward an hour or so, and our eldest was back in the kitchen cooking himself tea. There were bits of cheese and stuff on the cooker, and my red mist descended again. He mumbled something under his breath, and, forget the banshee, some sort of demon from hell was released. I was horrid. I lost the plot completely. We’re still barely talking 18 hours later.  I was just feeling so frustrated, that I was drowning in a sea of mess, and that neither of them listened to me. Ever.

This morning I had to take our youngest to CAMHS for counselling for anxieties, feeling a huge amount of blame – of course our 12 year old has anxieties, his mother is a screaming banshee – mixed in with the SEN parent guilt.

The morning was actually really interesting, and his/our work to do at home is to look at feelings. One of these is looking at the ‘negative trap’, where you think of your most difficult situations and write what happens, how you feel and what you think about when you are in that situation. I thought about this on the way home from school, before writing this.

Last night, when I was faced with the mess and chaos, I was thinking: why can’t anyone else see the mess? I don’t have the time, but I really don’t want to stop what I’m doing; I can’t do this anymore; something has to give, and I don’t want it to be me anymore.

What I did: erupted, shouted, stamped my feet and bellowed

What I felt (and this is the interesting one, and I’m being really honest here): sad, let down, that I was drowning, scared that I would never have time to do my thing, guilty (no idea why, but guilt was there), disappointment in myself for not getting the boys to do this kind of thing already, undervalued, and very upset.

This week I am not winning at parenting. There is no kick-ass warrior parent writing this today, but that’s the point of this rambling post. Some days we win, some days we are so freaking amazing that the whole world seems to turn to give us a thumbs up, most days we coast along, doing our best, somehow, hoping no one notices how much we are winging it, and then sometimes we lose it, and we completely f&%k it up. When this happens (and let’s be honest, this does happen) we have to apologise for our words and actions, and then we have to reflect, learn, pull ourselves together (write a blog post) and then find our sparkle again, and carry on.

To my wonderful, passionate 20 year old, I am sorry I lost it last night. It wasn’t good parenting, and I know that. Mum xx