Sunday, 6 October 2019

Ongoing minefield of parenting

Hey readers,

Sometimes I lie in my bed at four in the morning and I am just staring at the ceiling and my tummy is filled with dread. My thoughts are filled with fear and I wonder how I am going to get through another day as a parent.




I don't feel confident at all and I am always questioning everything. Sometimes, I get annoyed with my husband, how he could allow me to be a parent when I am totally useless. I am always tired and things seem to take a long time to master. I seem to make the same mistakes over and over again.
I am now sitting in my son's assembly hall waiting and feeling yet again that familiar feeling of being a true outcast or black sheep. This feeling is not new to me, it comes frequently where I feel like I am an outsider looking through the glass where I just can't reach through. It feels so close yet so far away.

There are other times when I get jealous of my husband, he can just get things and communicate really well. I am sitting back permanently struggling and my tummy is in knots with anxiety. 

He does try to understand my neurosis bless him but he is the complete opposite of me. I watch on as he mingles and just gets these social rules that I seem to get muddled and fail all the time. I just get things, or I am just anxious state of a person. 

That is one good thing about summer holidays even though I am dealing with the change but not having to think. I over analysis I know but at least it gives me a break where I don't have to feel completely sh*t again. I know I will never be one of them, good parents that I so desperately want to be, I mess up it is a natural talent of mine. I just get so fed up with it all and after takes its time.

 It hurts deep and it so damn frustrating. It is a minefield and just getting through the day is a challenge in its self. The thoughts that trigger me are so strong, they keep me awake and let me every time my downfalls. I just need to a breather, time away and not to think that would be totally blissful.

I remember when I was pregnant dreaming of being this type of parent that would swim into motherhood like flies to poo. Sadly, it hasn't happened, to delusion, I am nothing that I expected. I thought I would be good at communicating because I was living this role as a mother that it would all somehow come to a place.

 That I would have this maternal instinct. The only thing that I am good at it appears to be is hanging up the washing and creating random fun stories for my boy. It is not much, I am never good at small talk but I take it now and I got to learn to accept the situation for what it is.

Cheers for reading X

3 comments:

  1. Firstly I am so sorry you feel this way. You make up random fun stories for your boy - that is amazing and the very sort of thing children mention in eulogies when it comes to that time. Good enough has to be good enough. And yet really I empathise - I home educate and today my teens are upstairs again which makes me feel that we are getting nothing done and they are doomed for their futures. But then when I do stuff it feels like I am forcing them even though they don't say that. It's all in our own heads I fear but how we get it out I do not know. #AnythingGoes

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  2. This is so sad to read. I bet all those mummies who look like they have their s**t together don't make up stories for their kids, they're probably too busy faking the 'instalife!' None of us is the parent we thought we would be. All those people who look like they are, generally aren't behind closed doors and they often share the same worries and concerns, they just hide it. Keep doing what you're doing because you making a good job of it and you are more than good enough x

    #MMBC

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  3. Every parents has days when we feel this way. That we don't know what we are doing and are the worst. But the brighter days come. My encouragement to you is that you are doing a better job than you think. God gives us grace enough for the hard things. And pray constantly for Him to cover over my mistakes. laurensparks.net

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