Friday, October 20, 2006

It's Official -- I'm a Raging Lunatic

Not that there was any doubt, but I think it's official now. How do I know? My best friend (who is not a mother, so what does she know! --that was in case she's actually reading this...) told me I am a stress case. So there you go.

So here's my question: WHAT MOTHER OUT THERE IS NOT A STRESS CASE?!?!?!

Seriously. Because if someone out there has some secret, I really want to know. For so long I have been on boil. Long past medium simmer. My top blew a long time ago. And I don't know how to bring it down. Because anger is not exactly the most fun friend to carry around. She's a one-noter, and frankly a real drag.

But honestly, there's so much to be angry at. I don't want to go into the huge laundry list (because truthfully I started typing it and it looked lame to me...) but basically, it seems like the font is never empty.

So, other than pharmaceutical suggestions: I am all ears.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's funny that I should be responding to this with any kind of clarity seeing how I am up at 1:45am looking up whining and mommy breakdown on the internet. My kids are awesome but my 2 year old is driving me nuts.

Every mom I've ever talked to has had periods of feeling like they are going to flip out. Sometimes it's in the moment and other times it can go on for months. Just like anything really worthwhile or anything you've ever worked really hard to accomplish, there is struggle. On the otherhand there are the times of feeling truly proud because we know we've done something really, really HARD but really WORTHWHILE... giving our all to another, or other, human being(s).
You are so normal it is amazing. I used to think I was the only mom going through this stuff until I started asking other moms about their experiences. One friend reminded me that if I didn't care so much about my kids and how I was raising them I wouldn't get so frustrated.
I guess things that have helped in the past and maybe I ought to think about trying too are:
a)acknowlege that I'm doing something really challenging and that it could drive anyone nuts
b)think of a few things that make me happy and try to encorporate them into my day even if it is as simple as my favorite drink over ice.
C)take time each day to consciously appreciate something really cool about my children (3)
d)if possible get a sitter, friend, or relative to watch the "little darlings" once a week for a little while until I feel like I've caught my breath. (I've noticed that taking a class that has to do with something I'm interested in usually gives me new wind and keeps periods of burnout further apart).
Hang in there. Life is a roller coaster so it makes sense that just as things get harder, if you hang in there they will also get easier!

Manhattan Mama said...

Dear anonymous,
I wish I knew who you are -- you just made me smile for the first time in 2 days, so thank you!

Sugarmama said...

Love the suggestion about taking a class, if you have the time. It's been a solid year since I had the time, but it does do wonders to bring you back into your old self again.

My suggestions aren't nearly as inspiring as anonymous', but I advise getting a touch more sleep if you can manage it, making sure you're not hungry whenever you're dealing with your daughter, and feeling free to go lock yourself in the bathroom for a minute at any point where you feel like you're going to lose it. I find that I'M the one who usually needs the time-out, not my kids.

I used to feel like I was the only mother on the planet mean enough to get pissed and yell at her kids. Now I know better. It is hard to take care of little ones, dammit!

Anonymous said...

I agree with taking a class, if you can. I've just started taking yoga classes and afterwards I feel like I've taken a much needed nap. I would get angry at being angry...still do sometimes, but the yoga thing is definitely helping. Best wishes.

Yummy London Mummy said...

MM - here's my advice. You need to get your ass on the next flight to to London and we'll go on a shopping bender, interpersed with cocktail guzzling and intense bitching sessions. You never know, we might get lucky and end up in another near-punch-up situation with a cocky teenager on the King's Road. Ah, the sweet memories of old times...

My blow up bed is at your disposal. Give me 12 hours notice and I'm all yours for as long as it takes to restore sanity.

In the meantime, I'm sending you some Rococco chocolate. More effective than any pharmaceutical, although perhaps not as kind on the thighs.