Coming Unglued

Tonight I became completely unglued at my kids. I mean completely. COMPLETELY. I yelled, I stomped my foot. I slammed the bedroom door. I told them I couldn’t believe they could be so ungrateful. Ask for one more thing tonight, I taunted them. Go for it, I said. So yeah, I was all the things I never want to be and all the things I don’t want them to be. I was a jerk and I was mean. But you know, it was legitimate- there was laundry. On. The Floor. Two days worth. So it makes sense, right? No.

No, of course it doesn’t. Whatever it might have been, it wasn’t justified. After I was done with my audition for Mommy Dearest, I went and sat in the backyard for ten minutes, just staring off. What the hell was that? Who the hell am I? I could still hear one of my daughter’s crying upstairs. Yeah, I’d be crying too- how did she get stuck with this fuck-up as a parent?

So, I texted a friend- Do you have a minute to talk? Thank goodness she did. She listened and commiserated and made me feel just a tiny bit less shitty and alone and that was enough. I took a few deep breaths and went up and apologized- to the one that was still crying and to the one that had fallen asleep. I apologized and totally owned my anger (rage, really)- I said it was wrong of me to take it out on them. I said I was mean and unfair and that I was sorry.

I don’t know if that’s enough. I don’t know if putting this confession up on a blog helps. Does it help to “own” it or does it just mean that I can quickly justify my behavior? I get scared that I am not normal- that my moments of fury are different or more frequent than others. I *think* they are infrequent but don’t really know. I don’t know because it’s one of those things we rarely discuss as a community of parents. At least amongst my friends.

Sometimes, a mom or dad will refer to getting angry, but it’s always vague- I guess because it’s so shameful and ugly, and it shows how horrible we can be at times.

The joy of being a parent often takes my breath away for all the right reasons, and I am often filled with so much gratitude for this gift that I have been given. But other times, I am reminded that I am human and human beings can be ugly and cruel, even to those who are the most dear and precious to us.

I know that a lot, probably even the vast majority of the time, I am a good parent. Truly good at it. I can’t bring myself to say great, because in moments like this, I don’t know what that means. I think I just got my “great” revoked for awhile. But I am good- I think about building confidence, being kind, being forgiving, providing structure and opportunity, providing security and comfort. I really work hard, consistently to be a thoughtful, good parent. But every once in a while, this horrible part of me shows up with a rocket launcher and I look around at all the neat little things I’ve made- these carefully constructed, fragile towers of good moments, good intentions, good experiences, moments of tenderness and love- and I just blow those fuckers up like they are tissue paper. I guess that’s why we call it coming unglued- because you are going to need a lot of glue.

So, I asked my daughters to forgive me and they nodded mutely. I don’t think they know what that means exactly, but they reached out to me and hugged me. Hugged me hard, like I deserved it, which I did not. I couldn’t have felt more low and undeserving. Asking for forgiveness from your children feels like a coward’s request, but I don’t know how else to move forward. I suppose you do it by picking up all those shattered bits of glass- the good intentions and experiences, and start building again.

Then you ask yourself, how long will I build this next time? Will I be smarter and slower to anger? Will I be able to sidestep the twister of rage that out-of-nowhere picks me up like a rag doll? I don’t think so- not every time, anyway. I fervently hope that in the long run it’s enough- that I am a better builder than wrecking ball, that the ultimate balance tips in the right direction. I hope that I can be worthy of the fierce and loving hugs they gave me.

It feels like a long, long walk but I guess I am already on my way.

About jenlocati

JENNIE LOCATI started her blog, WYS Words as a way to share her experiences as a professional woman, wife, mother, and irrepressible “do-gooder”. Her diverse life experiences have taken her to Kenya as a Peace Corps volunteer, the trading floors of Wall Street, to PATH, and most recently back to Microsoft, where she works in Executive Communications. Jennie shares her many misadventures, occasional insights, and unique perspectives in a voice that is self-deprecating, honest, and authentic. Read more at www.wyswords.com

Posted on June 25, 2014, in Big Ideas and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Just my two cents: I think having the courage to own your imperfections and apologize makes you an awesome parent.

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  2. Elaina Dulaney

    Great blog Jennie – I am so with you. I have apologized to my kids more times than I care to count. It doesn’t undo the damage but it does show that you are human and that you ask forgiveness and you teach forgiveness to your kids. I also have tried to stop and realize why I exploded – was it stress and fatigue from work? Was my cup so empty that I didn’t have the grace to deal with it in a calm and purposeful manner instead of exploding? Had I had one or two glasses of wine that depleted my ability to respond calmly? Generally I realize that the kids aren’t the issue, I am. Yes they need to be disciplined, but not exploded at. Thanks for bringing this topic up, its one we can all learn from!

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  1. Pingback: Blog Hoppin’: All the cool kids are doing it | WYS Words

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