Tonight I lost my shit.
Totally and utterly lost it. I’m not sure where it went but I went off like a rocket.
And now the mum guilt is all consuming.
It’s the bane of my life, sometimes it works like a dream, other times it’s like wrestling eels.
Tonight was wrestling eels.
It all started so well.
They were bathed, clean and in pyjamas – with minimal fuss. The big ones went ahead and had “crazy time” whilst I put the smallest one to bed.
His eyes shut.
Onto the big two. Into bed, snuggled up. Bedtime stories read.
So far so good.
Then the baby woke up and I had to leave the room.
Strict instructions for them to stay in bed whilst I got him back to sleep. I was 8 steps away in the next room, we know, we counted last time this happened.
Shit was about to hit the fan.
First I heard the floorboard creak.
Then the bang as the other landed on the floor from his bunk bed.
Then two faces at my door, three if we include blue ted.
The baby’s eyes are closing as I make shhh and shooing gestures.
THAT ARE COMPLETELY IGNORED.
They crash into the room. Shouting about taking blue teds clothes off, rifling through the shelves at their vitamins, staunch refusal to go back to their bed because they’re scared.
It’s scary. Apparently.
The baby is awake now. Wide awake.
I put him in his cot and I lose it.
I shout. I stamp my feet. I am pulling my hair out.
I’m not being fair, they’re not being fair.
I can’t stop shouting.
I need to breathe.
Leaving them upstairs, heading down to my mum, asking her to have them while I run.
Leaving the house.
The mum guilt. Oh god the mum guilt.
Why did I shout? Lose my temper? Can I handle this better.
Pounding on the pavement.
Vowing to do better tomorrow.
Set boundaries, rules, rewards.
Remember everything I have learnt when sleep training an older child and what I can do to help.
Knowing my husband is coming home at the end of the week.
Coming back in a better frame of mind. A new day. A new plan.
Kissing them goodnight. Granted the baby didn’t go to sleep until past 10pm but that’s ok.
We can deal with that tomorrow.
Tomorrow is another day.
One where I won’t lose my shit.