When I was a full of drama, teenager/middle-schooler/probably elementary schooler and preschooler too, I would stomp off to my room when mad. Shutting my door, I would flop in dramatic defeat onto my bed and sigh loud enough for the house to hear.
Laying there, unsatisfied with the lack of results from my grand showcasing of emotions, I would add another sigh or two, for effect. Being mad never really got me anywhere other than staring at the back of my door or glaring at my ceiling hoping that my dad wasn’t right about my face freezing that way.
Today if I were to stomp off to my room I would be followed by half an army and someone would undoubtedly slam their finger in the door. But I have that urge to throw myself into my bed or just huff and puff at the universe for all the stuff. The stuff is making me a little crazy. Like I can sit still in the quiet and my foot will still be tapping over the stuff. My frustration over the grief and the loss and the autism and the special needs everything-under-the-sun in my house has given me a case of serious three year-old pouting and I’m just over here throwing Cheerios at the door while I count the ways things didn’t turn out as I planned.
I ran into our bedroom door last night trying to get to the latest child calling my name. Since I walked full-force into it, I let out an owww and was hunched forward trying to get over the pain in my face when my son said, “Are you okay Mommy but when are you coming to our room?” I stood for a second trying to get my bearings and thought, if that door would have knocked me out I would have been lying on the floor and someone would still be asking for juice and someone else would be melting down and more people would be wanting me to fix their blankets and wash their white shirts. I have to get up because no one else is going to do it for me.
There is the pain and the feeling it and the hanging onto it but there has to be the letting go of it. I may be chanting “the only way out is through” until I’m touring nursing homes but somehow my attitude is not freezing this way. I’m not missing bedtime stories because I’m mad at the door and meltdown #475,682 is not stopping me from the cuddle afterwards.
There will always been a moment that is better than the last and a today that is better than yesterday. I’m just squinting to see them over this big pile of stuff I’ve let knock me down.
this is just write and things I can’t say
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Oh I think we as moms are allowed to have some tantrums, some meltdowns too once in awhile, don’t you think? Agree with everyone else, you have such a positive attitude and it is good to know I’m not the only one who sometimes feel like I could stomp my feet 🙂
Sometimes I have these moments where I think I could be lying on the floor bleeding, in need of an ambulance, and my boys would just continue fighting over who gets what iPad.
Very thankful for the good moments
Please know that I would pick you back up if I could (although I was in a mommy time out myself today). . . Sending hugs and hope. xo
Sending empathy. The good thing about attitudes is there’s always the chance to shift them, even if it’s a moment or day at a time. xo
kids get to have tantrums… men get to have mantrums… we get to have a melt-down from time to time, right?! Right… well that is until someone needs juice or something 😉 –sigh!
Oh I really love this post. I needed to read about someone else’s mommy meltdown. It’s so wonderful to know we’re not alone in feeling this way sometimes. No matter what the reason. We all have stuff! I love your attitude!
I often wonder how much my temper tantrums affect my boys. I know they throw theirs like I throw mine, including slamming doors and yelling. And I wonder when or if they will realize why I was throwing them – on my bad days thinking about Joey or being frustrated over their brother’s behavior, or just because they all ganged up on me. I think moms deserve a little tantrum of their own sometimes. It saves us from the bottom of the bottle. 😉
Jess, you make me want to be a better Mom. Your last two sentences will stick with me forever. XOXO
You leave the best comments Lori, I need you to live next door.
I get it. Just feeling what I feel and not being able to change it is so frustrating sometimes that I want to sit down and scream too. I like the distraction of all those needs and all those cuddles and all that love, but sometimes, I let it get in the way of the process of healing. I’m too busy to just process.
I would be surprised to hear if everyone didn’t feel that way. If we all didn’t occasionally want to run into our bedroom huffing and sighing the whole way. My husband makes fun of me because in rare moments of truly being at my limits I do what I did as I child. I will lay on my bed with my legs in the air and kick them about in some sort of exasperated dance of trying to release the huff out of my body and into the world. I promise you its a hilarious sight to see and often resolves most huffs with the sheer absurdity of it.
I think I need to try that technique :).
I get you.
I have found myself squinting, too. This resonates in such a way that it literally sounds like something I would say. Not every day is hard. Not every day is easy. It is just … every day.
And that piles up sometimes. Yeah, I’m squinting, too.
Alita
Yeah, the pile is sort of hard to see over sometimes. Tomorrow might be fine but sometimes today isn’t.
Oh boy, I needed to read this. I’ve been feeling a lot of self-pity lately, but you are right. Things don’t change unless we change them, and until we can or do or circumstances shift, feeling sorry for ourselves really doesn’t help.
I’m still not out of self-pity mode. I’m trying though, so hopefully that counts for something. I think we both deserve a day of doing nothing but laughing and wine.
Let me just say, this is my house daily and I swear I am just a meltdown away from a total break down most times. Although I do have 3 adult kids and know it will end one day and get better, these 3 little girls get the best of me. Thanks for sharing this, helps me to feel like I’m not the only one. 🙂
I’m glad, yet sorry, that you can relate. It’s really hard to find a way to let our emotions out when we’re trying to keep it together for everyone else.
It’s never just what you have to say…which is important, it’s how you say it…which is always beautiful. We all have these adult tantrum moments, but, keeping that perspective amidst the chaos is so key. Great post, Jessica.
I really needed to read this today. Thank you for the reminder.
Just because you’re older and a mom, it doesn’t mean that you can’t have tantrums. Your kids will see that everyone has bad days, that it is best to walk away and take a time out rather than lash out…and that they will see that you’re not perfect. None of us are. And I think that it so very important.
Whenever I try to walk away they all follow. It’s sort of hard to have a quiet temper tantrum around here :).
I remember those days. But I also remember that once when my two oldest were very little, I fell and gashed my knee badly. I needed stitches. Their dad was at work so guess who was my little hero? My little boy. He helped me elevate my leg and got me the phone and took care of his sister until his dad got home.
My point in this story is to tell you that if you do fall down or even have a meltdown, your kids WILL be okay. Don’t be too hard on yourself!
Thanks so much Cyndy.
Completely relate. Sometimes a temper tantrum feels great, but there still the same stuff to do afterwards. Jake is having a bit of spring mania right now and I don’t know if i can take another day of maniacal laughing at bedtime.
The other day when Ethan told me he didn’t want to do his homework because it isn’t fun. And when I told him there are some things in life we just have to do, fun or not, and this was one of them, he shot back that he couldn’t wait until he was a grown-up and didn’t have anyone telling him what to do and that *I* don’t HAVE to do anything. I think he was a bit shocked when I started laughing hysterically and then listing all the things i have to do that aren’t fun but that if i stopped doing he really wouldn’t like it.
I know what you’re going through right now, and I have a thousand hugs for you, my friend. Hang tight. We’re here for you.
Oh I have done the laughing and listing off of all my tasks too. They just think I’m crazy, because of course I do all those things. Thanks for always being here Varda.
You’re totally entitled to a fit once in a while (and by once in a while, I mean however often you need it). Good for you for looking for the good, and for the light at the end of the tunnel, even when you have to squint to see it. 😉
I’m trying. Lately I’ve been in a rut and not looking for the good as much as I should.
Oops, I meant to comment on your BLOG for real. Facebook got in my way.
I can totally relate, which is a more eloquent way of saying what I said there…
I’m so glad you said this Kim. This was one of those posts where I woke up in the morning, wondering if I should just delete it. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you saying “me too.”