Skip to main content

Rage

Do you ever wake up feeling totally, utterly angry? And for no good reason?

Thankfully for me this state of being is fairly rare. I'm a grumpy a lot of the time, yes, and often cross. But not usually quite as enraged as I have been feeling recently.

Maybe it's working 50/60-hour weeks for the past month while still trying to manage the school or nursery run and some semblance of a home life (which means I get home on time but then have to work remotely until midnight). Maybe it's the fact that every weekend for the past month there have been a round of kids parties, family and friends to see, house stuff to do, mountains of ironing, children to entertain, husbands to soothe... and however hard I try, all I really want to do is stay in bed for the entire 48-hours, which means I am in slow motion and make nobody happy due to my exhausted dullness.

Maybe it's the fact that I am mad at myself, because working this hard while trying to keep a house and be a mother and a wife means that I do nothing very well. I forget all the other things that you can luxuriate in when you have enough time to do so - such as people's birthdays, school bake sales, sewing on missing buttons, children's reading homework, writing letters to family abroad, paying bills, and doing anything to the house beyond basic maintenance.

The end result is that I am an utterly lousy mother, wife, daughter, friend, aunt, daughter-in-law, grandchild, niece, neighbour....not to mention blogger (yes, apologies, apologies, and even greater apologies for me constantly going AWOL without a moment's notice). I am rubbish. And this makes me feel even worse. I'm not entirely sure how I can sustain this pace, even if it isn't ticking all the boxes, and the ever-fashionable ' downsizing' is not an option - how can it be when there's a mortgage to pay, credit card bills to make a dent in, food to buy and the nanny and nursery bills to cover, not to mention all the other million things that are not only necessary but bring some kind of small pleasure to living day to day?

The only small comfort is that I am a great employee, and while I would dearly love to swap my focus from work to home, I know full well that if I did I wouldn't remain employed for long.

Anybody got a low-stress nine-to-five PR job they're recruiting for? Does such a thing even exist? All offers considered...

Comments

Anonymous said…
Yes. You are normal. It gets better.
Kate B. said…
Thanks anon. Music to my ears.

Popular posts from this blog

The Grim Reaper

Firstborn is obsessed with death. It started with the odd comment, such as; "Mummy, what happens when you die?" OK, I thought, I was expecting this at some point, what a cute little curious brain she has. So I trotted out all the cosy Heaven stuff and left out all the things that could worry her, such as worms and bones and holes in the ground. This went down pretty well, although somehow Firstborn made the jump from my view of Heaven (filled with love, joy, always warm, never rains, has a huge discount designer shoe outlet and I never have to pay my Visa bill) to her own view of Heaven; a wonderous place where small girls don't have to eat their vegetables before they're allowed pudding, and where Barbie dolls grow on trees. Anyway, I digress. Last week Firstborn started shouting "Kill! Kill!" in a bloodthirsty tone while bashing her hithero-beloved teddy against the wall. This was topped by her purposely flushing her favourite My Little Pony down the loo. ...

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...