I am physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted – Mummascribbles

“I am physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted” were the words I said to my kids tonight when I was getting them ready for bed. And I meant every word of it.

I’m drained. And I know I’m not alone.

I was only thinking the last few days, that nobody shows the shit behind the scenes. Instagram is currently full of happy Summer holidays. Trips away with smiling faces and ice creams. Bloggers on their lovely days out sharing their happiest moments. Kids chilling out together, playing nicely together – everything looking hunky-dory. And as a Mum who is currently struggling with every aspect of parenting in the Summer holidays, it really isn’t helpful to not see the actual realities of others’ day-to-day lives. Where the house is a mess, the kids are fighting, and the parents are yelling.

And then something happened. On the very day I was planning on writing this post because I was feeling utterly broken, I saw two – yes two social media posts of other people struggling. @dr_rachel_eyre shared how she had savoured fifteen solo minutes in the car while her parents took the kids back to the park. How she is struggling with snappiness, struggling with feeling irritated, and struggling with being bothered about anything. And I saw another post on Facebook talking about very similar days and feelings, although sadly the post disappeared away thanks to that silly automatic reload feature!

But it was so refreshing to know that I wasn’t completely alone. That other people are feeling just as frazzled and are facing the same struggles as me.

I have two beautiful children. They are my life and soul and I absolutely adore the ruddy pants off them. But right now, they are utterly exhausting. They spend most of their days bickering and fighting. Every day there has been an argument and tears within the first half an hour of being awake. I have generally had to break up a fight before I’ve managed to finish my morning cuppa. And it continues throughout the day. All day, every day.

Don’t get me wrong, amid the moments of utter carnage, they are beauties. There are periods of time when they are getting along, playing lovely, supporting each other, laughing, giggling, ganging up on me! And then within a split second, it all turns sour. Someone has called the other a name, one has pinched another, the other has retaliated, and suddenly they are just on each other attacking until I break them up. When Zach hurts Oscar, the screams are blood-curdling, the marks on his body are visible because he is twice his size and twice his strength, and it is always Zach that gets in the most trouble because of this – even if it was Oscar that started it – because Oscar always gets hurt the worst.

This happens throughout the day. I find myself doing something and then having to stop to break up a fight. It happens at home, it happens when we are out, it happens when we have company. It is constant, and it as I said – mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting.

I’m at the point where I am completely done with it all. I am fed up of the fights. Fed up of yelling at them. Fed up of thinking that our neighbours must think we are the family from hell when they can hear them screaming at each other, along with us shouting for it all to stop. Fed up with just feeling like the most miserable and shittiest mum ever. I know I’m not, but the way things are right now, it is how I feel.

Today Oscar said to me, “you look different Mum”, and we both realised it was because I was smiling. Zach had gone on a playdate at his friend’s house for the whole day. He left at 10.30 am and returned at 4.30 pm. The house was calm and quiet all day. I was exhausted from the amount of attention Oscar required – particularly the hour and a half of archery and tennis he wanted to play – but honestly it was such a peaceful day. And you know what? Within minutes of them being reunited, they were winding each other up and screaming at each other again. My smiles hadn’t lasted long.

The attitude I get from Zach right now as well is something else. It is like he has no respect, no appreciation of anything we do for him. He expects so much.

Something that really upset me today was when we came home from Oscar’s cricket session. Oscar threw his trainers on the floor and as Zach was bending down to pick his own up and put them in the box, I asked him if he could do me a favour and pop Oscar’s in there. His response was one of horror, one of him stomping off moaning that they aren’t his, that he has better things to do, and that Oscar could do it himself. Honestly, I was in disbelief at what had just happened and of course, went straight to yelling. I said to him that I bet a million pounds that had his friend’s Mum asked him to do it, he’d have done it. And his response was that he had done exactly that. It upset me so much that he was willing to help others but not me. What have I done wrong? Why do I get treated like shit?

At that point, I just gave up. I’d had that argument, they were arguing, I spilt a cup of juice all over the dining table, almost burnt dinner (which was only oven pizzas!), and I had all but given up on doing anything other than getting them the hell into bed.

I could have cried tonight. Feeling the load of everything that I am doing right now. Trying to keep the house in order, decorate, sort out everything that needs to be sorted before the start of school, failing at that because the bloody uniform company have a 20 day turnaround right now, trying to get them out and about, treating them to days out, lunches, trips to the cinema, and feeling like I just get absolutely no thanks for it. I mean we went to see Paw Patrol, ate a ton of popcorn, and all Oscar did was moan that I wouldn’t buy any sweets on the way out.

I’m done. I need a break. And I know I have a break coming. They’ll both be at school in just a few weeks. But I’m so done right now. The thought of another two weeks of this. Two weeks of breaking up arguments and fights on a daily basis. Having arguments myself. Just feeling like somewhere I have failed by providing them with what really is a quite nice life.

I don’t know where I went wrong. Did I do too much for them? Not make them appreciate enough? Give them too much? I don’t know.

But at least I know I’m not alone. There are other people out there, hiding behind the Instagram feeds of smiling faces and perfect days out, and struggling with the realities of parenting. So I hope by venting my frustrations, by writing my experiences, I am helping those people to know they aren’t alone. You aren’t alone.