I yelled at you today.
You were doing something I’d asked you not to do about four or five times already.
The final time you looked me dead in the eye as I spoke and you did it again.
Maaate, the snap was like Britney feat. umbrella c. 2007.
I felt bad as soon as the words were out, but I didn’t stop. My mouth has always had one speed and my brain another. It takes a while for my brain to catch my mouth and hiss-whisper, ‘Shut up, Lauren, it’s done.’ Ask any of my bosses, ever.
The first yell was because you clearly function at a different frequency to other humans. The only time you acknowledge that I’ve spoken is if I break 90 decibels or more.
The second yell was because you didn’t transform into an obedient child within 0.3 seconds of the first yell. Yes, I know that’s completely unfair but that’s how my rage works; I require immediate results. It’s quite incompatible with motherhood.
The third and maybe fourth yell weren’t about you at all, to be honest—they were about me. A lot of the time it’s about me.
I’m yelling because I’m frustrated—which frustrates me because I’m a goddamn adult and you’re three so clearly I hold the wit and reason in this relationship … or do I?
I’m yelling because I feel like I should be able to get you to listen and I can’t remember a single word of the 768 articles I’ve saved about getting children to listen without yelling.
I’m yelling about my failure to not be the yelly mum. I want to be the Zen mum who connects with her child on a spiritual level, so they don’t even need to use words to understand what is and isn’t okay. Of course, that’d require you to stop yelling for a minute too.
I’m yelling because I’m SO TIRED and, honestly, that’s mostly your fault. You’re like the mail sorting centre. You. Never. Stop. This is why they call it ‘going postal’.
But that’s no excuse, so I’m sorry. I want you to be a good kid, and it annoys me that I don’t know how to do it better and every time I explode, I’m reminded that I’m not as talented as I think.
So please remember that I love you and when I yell, it’s mostly about ‘me and my shortcomings’.
And sometimes, it’s just a little bit about ‘you being a jerk’.
Love Mummy xxx