Parenting is fucking hard, guys. No matter how you look at it, no matter how you swing it, it's fucking hard. I don't think I've ever met a mom who didn't wonder if she was making the right choices or screwing her kids up royally. I don't think I've ever met a mom who wasn't exhausted, whether it was obvious or not. I don't think I've ever met a mom who thought to herself "oh, this parenting thing is so easy. I always make the right choices, my kids never drive me insane. I'm absolutely perfect at this" all the time. If you're a mom who thinks this all the time, we can't be friends because I'm a fucking hot mess.
Now, I don't know how parenting with mental illness vs without stacks up. I can't say if one is harder than the other, and I certainly wouldn't want to act like I have things so much worse because I have mental illness. Parenting is hard no matter what. But, personally, it is definitely harder when I'm having one of my "bad" days vs my "good" days.
Most days, on my good days, I chalk my kid's behavior up to the fact that HE IS ONLY TWO. The hitting, the kicking, the pinching, the screaming, the not using hi words, the melting down over everything, the not listening. All of that. I usually take it as, whatever, he's got a great life, he's just two. I've never so much as popped him in the mouth when he bit me, though I definitely don't judge moms who do. It's just not my parenting style. I tend to try to approach things by being calm and encouraging him to talk. If that doesn't work, I will flat out ignore a fit until he realizes that it gets him no where and he stops.
Days like today, though? Days when I'm stressed about work and about the gas in my van lasting until payday and the fact that I have to pay for two whole weeks of daycare this month when I usually only have to budget for one? Days when my commute kind of sucked and I haven't eaten much and I've just had enough of the day before I get home? Days when my depression tried to stop me from getting out of bed this morning, and told me repeatedly that I'm a piece of shit? Days when my anxiety is waiting like a cobra ready to strike?
Well, those days I lose it.
Now, I don't mean that I beat him or anything like that. I simply will not put up with any shit. So when it was ready for bed and we'd gotten his pjs on and brushed his teeth and read his books and I shut off the light and the screaming started? Not. Fucking. Happening. I tried ignoring him and letting him just cry it out for a minute while I laid next to him (have I mentioned that we co-sleep?), and that got me kicked in the mouth and slapped in the face in pinched in the too chubby abdomen that he used to call home. Nope. I was done.
So I plopped him in his bed, which is still in my room, and told him that from now on, he sleeps in his own bed. There have to be consequences for treating people like that, and that means that he doesn't get to do what he wants to do. He ended up screaming for an hour, throwing himself against the walls, trying to get out of bed and still taking swings at me before my mom came over. She can hear his screams through the walls and can't stand it.
I've gotten really lucky. I have a kick ass support system. My mom knows when I've hit my limit and usually swoops in to help me before I completely lose what is left of my sanity. My best friend is like 500 miles away, and she's got two boys under two. We've been best friends forever and I feel like being moms has brought us closer together, despite the distance. We have very, very different parenting methods, but we never judge each other or tell each other that we're wrong, because we're not. What works for my kid doesn't work for hers, and vice versa. Without being able to vent to her about my mommy frustrations, I think I would have lost my mind by now. She's been there through every stage of my life and understand what it's like inside my head when my mental illness is kicking my ass.
And sometimes, on days like today, we get to do facials "together" and drink "together" and write "together" because of Snapchat and these blogs we're writing. So if you have a mom friend, especially one who understands you and doesn't judge even when you think you're being crazy, hold on to her as tight as you possibly can.
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