Am I a terrible Mother?
Today, like most days I am asking myself, ‘Am I a terrible Mother?’ Working from home, away from the office and I can barely write because I have tears streaming down my face. It’s the start of another school week, the beginning of another week of anxiety; other parents staring at me, whispering, gossiping and me wondering what I can do to bribemy youngest son to get home as quickly as possible before any trouble breaks out. Weekends are my haven, a place of safety, a breath of fresh air away from suspicious, condemning eyes, but now it is Monday and the events of Friday come flooding back and the tears begin to flow. Am I a bad Mother? Did I do something wrong when I was pregnant that made him this way? ( I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but I’m just sharing the guilt I have felt) I long for people to see how he is at home; loving, kind, determined, so bright and clever like a dry sponge soaking up every bit of knowledge he can. So many questions, constantly asking me to play, see what he made, tugging me to sit down and watch a film with him or watch him perform his latest trampolining trick. My child is hyperactive, he is strong, built like an Ox, an amazing athlete, incredible energy and talent. But he has a short fuse, he’s impulsive, so competitive and he’s always in trouble. I sit and type and feel so sad and yet I wouldn’t change him. I’m feeling so sorry for myself and for him and the reputation that now goes before him. Any sign of trouble and his name is mentioned and parent gossip that I know and have heard. Why should he have to deal with this (for almost 18 months now) what have we done to deserve dreading the school run, anticipating a daily teacher report of his misdemeanours with this? Shit, life is so hard!
The Moment of Joy
And then my phone rings. I ignore it. It rings again and I have a sense that I must answer it. My beloved neighbours, whom we as a family, love dearly, are in trouble. Their situation is urgent, they need medication fetching and one of them cannot be left alone. (One of my neighbours is wheelchair-bound with cerebral palsy and he goes through bouts of being very poorly) My neighbour lives with his partner who is also his carer and they each run a business from home. He has a degree in child psychology and extensive knowledge of ADHD. He gives me advice for my son and we often chat about what’s it’d like to grow up with a disability. I drop everything, I snap out of it, it’s a great moment! I wipe my self-pitying tears, grab my coat and purse and immediately head to the shop. I realise for that brief moment that there is JOY in fetching that medicine (I no longer feel useless) and that my situation is small in comparison to what my neighbour lives with day in day out. My boy can run, he can use his hands, he can make a sandwich and he can take himself to the toilet. These are daily things my neighbour has never been able to do. I hand over the medicine, happy I could help today.
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In writing my blog, I in no way mean to cause offence and am merely sharing my own feelings about my own situation, my own state of mind and my own feelings of anxiety and depression. This in no way compares to anyone else’s situation. It is mine and mine alone.
365 Joy was created by a mum of three Amanda Waring. Going through a particularly difficult time in parenting, work life, mentally and spiritually, she decided to take action, share her shit (in other words write about it) and recognise that it is sometimes possible to have JOY even in the midst some serious sadness. 365 JOY was born as a way of sharing some of those joyful moments, those glimpses of hope on dark days.