Guilt

Oh, guilt.  The bane of every parent.  Do mothers feel more guilt than fathers?  I don't know.  I just know, when I've had a less-than-stellar parenting day, I feel it.  I think it's worse as a solo parent.  When there are two parents, and one of them loses the plot, the other can be a buffer.  Not exactly to take sides, but to help keep the calm.  In our better days, Colin used to do that for me.  And then, after the "storm", there is someone there to process the icky parenting moments.  Someone to talk to.  Someone to make me feel like I'm not the worst mother on the planet.

Friday nights are Family Movie Night at our house.  We all usually look forward to it.  The kids watch movies on their own from time to time, but on Fridays, I always watch with them.  It's fun.  It's another one of those "traditions" that I want to set for my kids.  I'm not a super fun mum.  I'm often a tired and irritable mum.  But I want there to be certain things that my kids take with them.  Waffle Wednesdays and Family Movie Night are a couple of those things.

My irritation started at supper.  It was so stupid.  I bought a frozen pizza.  It was jumbo size.  I didn't fit on any of my pans so I had to put it on the oven rack.  I hate doing that because then I have to clean oven parts and I think cleaning ovens is my least favourite job.  Ever.  So then, the one end stuck to the rack and I had a heck of a time getting the pizza onto the cutting board.  Messed up half of it in the process.

Then, of course, it had too much sauce.  Ethan doesn't like pizza sauce.  Silas used to, but now, he doesn't either.  So both of them are whinging about it and I started in on them.  I told them, fine, don't eat it, be hungry, see if I care?  Oh yes, the very mature me actually said "see if I care" to my children.  Ethan managed to eat one whole piece, which is a bit of a shocker.  Silas ate half of one and then a bowl of pineapple chunks and said he was full.  Yeah right.

I sent them downstairs to clean up.  We won't watch a movie until it's cleaned up.  I go down after they say they've done it and it's still a disaster.  What is with the cleaning up that simply involves pushing things aside or under furniture?  Yes, this is very likely a typical kid issue, but it drives me insane.  So, I'm fuming and they're trying to clean and I took some piece of garbage toy that Silas wanted, that was broken, and I threw it away.  I wouldn't let him dig it out of the trash, and he was melting down.  Then there was something else that was not where it should be and when I asked for an explanation, I'm quite certain Ethan lied to me, as he has been doing lately, and there is nothing like lying to make me see RED!  He started melting down because I wouldn't believe him that he knew nothing about it, and I said, that's it, movie night is not happening.  While the boys were unwillingly putting on pajamas and brushing their teeth, I noticed the door of the play kitchen oven lying on the floor, ripped out, for the second time in as many months, screws and all.  This time the culprit was Rory, who also had ripped the door off last time and the places where the screws go are just getting bigger and soon the door won't stay on at all!  And I just sat there and started crying myself because I just can't keep up.  I can't keep up with the cleaning and organizing and keeping on top of the kids to keep THEIR stuff organized and I'm so tired of broken toys and wrecked books, and the callous disregard for their things.  I feel like I can't have anything nice in my house because somebody wrecks it.  My sister's children donated some of their old toys to my kids.  These things were played with for years and were in mint condition.  My kids get them and suddenly they're breaking and getting wrecked!  It feels neverending.

And so, I lost the plot.  I was yelling, I was frustrated.  I cut bedtime routines short and told them to go to sleep.

And then I stewed.  All evening.  I don't handle frustrations well.  And I feel tremendously guilty for not being a loving disciplinarian, but instead, a raving, crazy woman in a flurry.

And the solo parent part makes me feel even more guilty because I'm all these kids have.  I don't want their future memories of their childhood to be of their harried single mother who was always getting on their case and never any fun.

And the logical part of me says that this was one night.  This is NOT how the majority of our evenings go.  But when it happens like this, I don't know how to shake the overwhelming ickyness that hangs on me.

Forgive me Lord.  Forgive me for not treating my children as you would.  As you do.  Give me rest and renewed strength for tomorrow.  Give me peace from the relentlessness of parenting solo, 100% of the time.  It is SO relentless.