The rubber band that coils around all the stuff inside me has been very, very stretched of late. Deadlines, distressed patients, piles and piles of ops to book and visits from outside surgeons to arrange. Work rarely comes home with me. I leave it there until I sit at my desk the next morning but it does drain my energy levels at times. At the same time, home is stressy. And youngest came to me again in tears this morning. It is time we did something about this. The problem is that am I her mum and probably too close to see things how they are. To cut a long story short, my attempts to help resulted in her anger and frustration that it was not what she wanted. 'I don't know' is the usual reaction. She wants help, she hates the suggestions, she does not know what to do.
It snapped then, that band of restraint. I got angry. With myself, with my children, with everything and everyone. It is hard to be the one that they rely on, but reviled at the same time. I had plans for today, for me, for us, but I have spent the day in youngest's room, helping her get it the way she wants it. I hate being interfering and yet I interfere. I hate being the enemy, yet I push. I would like to wrap them both up and keep them safe, but then I get cross and that must not feel safe to them at all.
At the root of all this is the feeling that as a mum I have a never ending supply of 'there,there's, of hugs, of Pollyanna like positivity. Fact is, it is not a constant supply. I get run down and cannot give as much.
Fortunately days like today are rare. We all feel a bit bruised, but I am hoping that this is part of the process of life and growing young adults.
It snapped then, that band of restraint. I got angry. With myself, with my children, with everything and everyone. It is hard to be the one that they rely on, but reviled at the same time. I had plans for today, for me, for us, but I have spent the day in youngest's room, helping her get it the way she wants it. I hate being interfering and yet I interfere. I hate being the enemy, yet I push. I would like to wrap them both up and keep them safe, but then I get cross and that must not feel safe to them at all.
At the root of all this is the feeling that as a mum I have a never ending supply of 'there,there's, of hugs, of Pollyanna like positivity. Fact is, it is not a constant supply. I get run down and cannot give as much.
Fortunately days like today are rare. We all feel a bit bruised, but I am hoping that this is part of the process of life and growing young adults.
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