(no subject)
What is a 'shitty' mother? What makes a bad parent in your eyes? Is it someone who doesn't breastfeed? Someone who yells at their kids? Someone who hits their kids? Someone who won't even have kids? Someone who has children while poor, or disabled, or mentally ill, or Atheist, or Republican?
I'm pretty sick of being called a shitty mother. When I don't hear it directly with words, I hear it in disapproving stares, clucks of the tongue and refusal to associate with me or my children.
I get called one when I let my eight year old walk the 1.5 blocks to her school in the morning, and on the way home. I get called one when I don't have [ the spoons ] to walk up and down three flights of stairs to escort my son to his Kindergarten class like all the 'good parents' do. I get called one for not participating in PTA meetings and extra-curricular activities because I need more physical down time than able-bodied mothers do. I get called one because for some reason every medical professional I meet for any reason whatsoever has to bring up the fucking vaccination lecture no matter how politely I imply that it's not at all relevant to whatever it is we're talking about (because it never has been). I get called one for having to choose between keeping my attention-seeking four year old in line for 5 minutes or finishing the one good feed my starving baby has had at the breast that day. I get called one for not watching my children while they play in my yard while I make lunch, or go pee. I get called one for having a son that's insanely outgoing, extroverted and full of energy, demanding so much attention that it has even me questioning whether or not he "should be" one of those kids who just sits there with his hands folded in silence for hours at a time. I'm the shitty mother that "refuses to medicate the annoying one and instead turns the smart one into a zombie".
And today I was the shittiest mother of all.
Today I said, "No" when my daughter asked if she could play at the house of her little friend, because for the last year every time we've invited him over his mother has refused... which was a mystery up until he told me himself that he's forbidden from playing at our house. His mother doesn't even know my last name, and I can only guess at why we're the only house he's forbidden to play at. When I came over to introduce myself the first time Tempest played there, one of the first things she said to me after, "Are you pregnant?" was, "I couldn't have more children and take attention away from [my son]. It's not fair to him"... to which I politely smiled and said, "Oh". I walk with this woman to and from school every morning now that I escort Xan to Kindergarten, and she refuses to look at me or speak to me even when I say hello and smile. At this point I don't even bother with that and pretend to be interested in my phone to try and make it less awkward. I have only spoken to her a handful of times, and have no idea why she is so hostile to me, or why she encourages Tempest to break rules I've set for her when she goes over to their house (like feeding her sweets after she's said, "My mother says I can't").
And I have to wonder: am I forbidding her because I'm angry and hurt, or am I forbidding her because I don't want her in an environment that's hostile and manipulative toward her and her family? That makes me a shitty mother.
Today I felt angry when my baby did nothing but fuss and cry all day. No amount of breastfeeding, cuddling, showering, swaddling, playing, loving, walking or soothing would calm her for more than a mere moment. At 9pm I finally found the time and energy to defrost some milk and offer her a Haberman bottle with 3.5oz worth. She gulped it so hard and so fast that I could hear the air bubbles squeezing into her stomach with each desperate swallow for more. It was gone in 7 minutes. She's starving. I've been out of Fenugreek for a week, and Domperidone for two days but have not gone to the store or the doctor for more because I've been exhausted from the pain in my right leg and hip. The pain from going to the school and going up and down not one, not two but six flights of stairs to find the lost and found box so I could fish Xan's coat out of it when he left it outside at "lunch recess", to visit the office to sign his late slip which is up two flights of stairs, to drop off the lunchbox he left at home up three flights of stairs... and then I listen to a wandering teacher say, "Why don't you just take the elevator?". The elevator that requires a key to use, a key in the office that's up the motherfucking stairs.
I have breakthrough medication that can take the edge off for a few hours, but my pain specialist only gives me so many per month that I can go through, and every time I tentatively ask for more after a bad week I wonder how many times I can do that before he begins to suspect that I am a drug addict and hands me a sterile container to piss in. So for the last week my baby has been suffering as a result.
That makes me a shitty mother.
I'm the shitty mother whose four year old was standing on top of a play structure on the ferry spitting on another child while another mother screamed across the entire boat, "Whose horrible child is this? He's being just awful! Come and stop him!". We took him by the hand and did the walk of shame through the crowd of disapproving 'good parents' as we ran away to the lower car deck, humiliated, and remained there for the last hour of our ride home... even after we learned that he was only responding that way after being pushed, pinched and teased by the other children for being the youngest there. That makes me a really shitty mother.
I am a shitty mother when I speak my mind and refuse to take the passive aggressive, judgmental, accusatory bullshit about "those shitty mothers" because really, can't we all just love each other and be nice and forget about all those pesky -isms in this conversation?... After a while it becomes so old that I might as well stop pouring energy into trying to prove them wrong and just play the part.
Today I am not strong. Today I'm tired. I'm sore. I'm hurting. I'm defeated. I'm sad. I'm frustrated. I'm lonely and I'm old.
Today I realized nearly all of my friends with children have either moved away, or are about to move away.
Today I realized I don't just have a failing business, I have failed: in five years I have a few awards, a dozen magazine covers, a hole in the ground, and debt. Half the people I took pictures of in the last 5 years are now 'photographers' themselves getting more clients for charging half of what would cover the basic costs of running a legitimate business - and yes, I am bitter.
Today I felt split between being proud and relieved that Curtis has a raise and a managerial position that has given us enough to start making a dent in our list of needs, and feeing upset that the long hours and extra exhaustion have left me lonely in my mind and my body. It's been two weeks since we've been able to have sex, and I'm sick of that too.
Today I planned on waking up and doing all sorts of things like pilates and a shopping trip so I could feel like one of those good healthy mothers, but instead I slept off and on for 3 hours while I waited for the pain to go away, trying to avoid taking extra medication, and spent the rest of the day in bed trying to get my baby to calm down and sleep.
Today I spent time obsessing over whether or not I actually have a choice between stripping years off my life due to over-medicating, or becoming a depressed and twisted paraplegic and making the last few decades of my miserable existence that much lonelier.
Most days I can remind myself that there is no such thing as a perfect parent, and that we've all been the judge and the accused. Sometimes I can forgive myself for screaming at my kids, or giving them double their TV time so I can try and stay in bed just a little bit longer... and sometimes it piles up like it has over the last two weeks and I feel like there is just no way to climb out from underneath all this crap.
I am overwhelmed, and I'm sick of that meaning that I'm a shitty mother.
I'm pretty sick of being called a shitty mother. When I don't hear it directly with words, I hear it in disapproving stares, clucks of the tongue and refusal to associate with me or my children.
I get called one when I let my eight year old walk the 1.5 blocks to her school in the morning, and on the way home. I get called one when I don't have [ the spoons ] to walk up and down three flights of stairs to escort my son to his Kindergarten class like all the 'good parents' do. I get called one for not participating in PTA meetings and extra-curricular activities because I need more physical down time than able-bodied mothers do. I get called one because for some reason every medical professional I meet for any reason whatsoever has to bring up the fucking vaccination lecture no matter how politely I imply that it's not at all relevant to whatever it is we're talking about (because it never has been). I get called one for having to choose between keeping my attention-seeking four year old in line for 5 minutes or finishing the one good feed my starving baby has had at the breast that day. I get called one for not watching my children while they play in my yard while I make lunch, or go pee. I get called one for having a son that's insanely outgoing, extroverted and full of energy, demanding so much attention that it has even me questioning whether or not he "should be" one of those kids who just sits there with his hands folded in silence for hours at a time. I'm the shitty mother that "refuses to medicate the annoying one and instead turns the smart one into a zombie".
And today I was the shittiest mother of all.
Today I said, "No" when my daughter asked if she could play at the house of her little friend, because for the last year every time we've invited him over his mother has refused... which was a mystery up until he told me himself that he's forbidden from playing at our house. His mother doesn't even know my last name, and I can only guess at why we're the only house he's forbidden to play at. When I came over to introduce myself the first time Tempest played there, one of the first things she said to me after, "Are you pregnant?" was, "I couldn't have more children and take attention away from [my son]. It's not fair to him"... to which I politely smiled and said, "Oh". I walk with this woman to and from school every morning now that I escort Xan to Kindergarten, and she refuses to look at me or speak to me even when I say hello and smile. At this point I don't even bother with that and pretend to be interested in my phone to try and make it less awkward. I have only spoken to her a handful of times, and have no idea why she is so hostile to me, or why she encourages Tempest to break rules I've set for her when she goes over to their house (like feeding her sweets after she's said, "My mother says I can't").
And I have to wonder: am I forbidding her because I'm angry and hurt, or am I forbidding her because I don't want her in an environment that's hostile and manipulative toward her and her family? That makes me a shitty mother.
Today I felt angry when my baby did nothing but fuss and cry all day. No amount of breastfeeding, cuddling, showering, swaddling, playing, loving, walking or soothing would calm her for more than a mere moment. At 9pm I finally found the time and energy to defrost some milk and offer her a Haberman bottle with 3.5oz worth. She gulped it so hard and so fast that I could hear the air bubbles squeezing into her stomach with each desperate swallow for more. It was gone in 7 minutes. She's starving. I've been out of Fenugreek for a week, and Domperidone for two days but have not gone to the store or the doctor for more because I've been exhausted from the pain in my right leg and hip. The pain from going to the school and going up and down not one, not two but six flights of stairs to find the lost and found box so I could fish Xan's coat out of it when he left it outside at "lunch recess", to visit the office to sign his late slip which is up two flights of stairs, to drop off the lunchbox he left at home up three flights of stairs... and then I listen to a wandering teacher say, "Why don't you just take the elevator?". The elevator that requires a key to use, a key in the office that's up the motherfucking stairs.
I have breakthrough medication that can take the edge off for a few hours, but my pain specialist only gives me so many per month that I can go through, and every time I tentatively ask for more after a bad week I wonder how many times I can do that before he begins to suspect that I am a drug addict and hands me a sterile container to piss in. So for the last week my baby has been suffering as a result.
That makes me a shitty mother.
I'm the shitty mother whose four year old was standing on top of a play structure on the ferry spitting on another child while another mother screamed across the entire boat, "Whose horrible child is this? He's being just awful! Come and stop him!". We took him by the hand and did the walk of shame through the crowd of disapproving 'good parents' as we ran away to the lower car deck, humiliated, and remained there for the last hour of our ride home... even after we learned that he was only responding that way after being pushed, pinched and teased by the other children for being the youngest there. That makes me a really shitty mother.
I am a shitty mother when I speak my mind and refuse to take the passive aggressive, judgmental, accusatory bullshit about "those shitty mothers" because really, can't we all just love each other and be nice and forget about all those pesky -isms in this conversation?... After a while it becomes so old that I might as well stop pouring energy into trying to prove them wrong and just play the part.
Today I am not strong. Today I'm tired. I'm sore. I'm hurting. I'm defeated. I'm sad. I'm frustrated. I'm lonely and I'm old.
Today I realized nearly all of my friends with children have either moved away, or are about to move away.
Today I realized I don't just have a failing business, I have failed: in five years I have a few awards, a dozen magazine covers, a hole in the ground, and debt. Half the people I took pictures of in the last 5 years are now 'photographers' themselves getting more clients for charging half of what would cover the basic costs of running a legitimate business - and yes, I am bitter.
Today I felt split between being proud and relieved that Curtis has a raise and a managerial position that has given us enough to start making a dent in our list of needs, and feeing upset that the long hours and extra exhaustion have left me lonely in my mind and my body. It's been two weeks since we've been able to have sex, and I'm sick of that too.
Today I planned on waking up and doing all sorts of things like pilates and a shopping trip so I could feel like one of those good healthy mothers, but instead I slept off and on for 3 hours while I waited for the pain to go away, trying to avoid taking extra medication, and spent the rest of the day in bed trying to get my baby to calm down and sleep.
Today I spent time obsessing over whether or not I actually have a choice between stripping years off my life due to over-medicating, or becoming a depressed and twisted paraplegic and making the last few decades of my miserable existence that much lonelier.
Most days I can remind myself that there is no such thing as a perfect parent, and that we've all been the judge and the accused. Sometimes I can forgive myself for screaming at my kids, or giving them double their TV time so I can try and stay in bed just a little bit longer... and sometimes it piles up like it has over the last two weeks and I feel like there is just no way to climb out from underneath all this crap.
I am overwhelmed, and I'm sick of that meaning that I'm a shitty mother.