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Honey, I broke the kid – BiB Fresh Voice contender

bib2013fresh voice

Mummy Never Sleeps speaks from the heart, she gives it to you as it is and you’ll sit up dead straight to listen to her. NO more words from me, read on.

I think I broke my kid.

Apparently having a nervous breakdown and uber high anxiety for a period of time can rub off to those little perceptive buggers. I originally thought his only psychic ability was when he could tell I was lying about there being a lack of Pop Tarts in the cupboard – dude, I want at least one, OK? But no, the tiny hooligan has hoodwinked me again, and is now displaying mega skillz like Derek Acorah. Only erm, somewhat more believable, and a whole different kind of terrifying.

Ya know that old wives tale, happy mums have happy babies? Whoever came up with that deserves a bear hug so immense their eyeballs bulge from their sockets. Scare Tic Tacs, innit? The type of stuff that beats us repeatedly around the grey matter when we’re feeling low, when the coffee jar is empty, that we’re not doing this very well, that look, LOOK AT HER *points maniacally at random mother in the street* She’s doing OK, she has LOADS of kids, SHE’S EVEN BRUSHED HER TEETH FFS, I see no trace of tea or red wine stains whatsoever.

But no, it would seem I am messing this mothering stuff up, I’ve broken my kid.

Me flapping around on a daily basis, fighting hourly panic attacks, desperately chasing them away, well, attempting to, to protect my baby, to protect me has been futile. The keeping a lid on it, the biting back the tears, has still led to this.

Having label after label tattooed on your forehead, branding you, will always sting like a bitch. PND. OCD. PTSD. Short little acronyms, innocent to the naked eye, but a whole other story within. But branding your baby with these, is whole different kettle of crazy. I blamed his nursery, I pointed the finger at his somewhat wayward friends, I felt just in putting it all down to something he’d seen on TV, about the only thing I didn’t blame was me.

heart

Bean has always proved to be his own shade of weird and wonderful, but his own anxieties, his own sudden quirks and fears and constant, incessent questions, are entirely new. Obviously they’re from me, not only has he inherited my brown eyes, my intolerable I’M NOT TIRED, DON’T TALK TO ME streak and my unyielding love of pyjamas, he’s gone and got himself my neurosis too, ain’t he?

The little fiend, I thought I’d hidden it all pretty well, under fake smiles and giving in too easily when he asks for chocolate, but being the little sponge he is, he’s soaked it all up anyway.

What do we do when we know we’ve broken our kids? And I mean know that you have. Not self-deprecating self-doubt. I mean being able to trace back the vapour trail to the conception of where all this compulsive behaviour began.

What do we do then?

When plasters, kisses and lollipops can’t help them. When we have to convince them, of things we’re not sure we believe ourselves, we have to mimic the soothing voice, the calming tones, and utter the words we’ve batted away in the past, to assure them everything is OK, because what other alternative is there?

mummy never sleepsMummyNeverSleeps is the sometimes funny, always honest gumf written by a – surprise – sleep deprived mum, carer and avid pyjama wearer. No subject left unturned, poetry about leggings, self harm and the usual mania living with a three year old intent on giving me premature greys.

Chat on Twitter @mummynevasleepsand find her on Facebook

 

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Saturday 11th of May 2013

I think sometimes it's all to easy to look to the mother in the street, and question how they seem to be able to do it so much better. What we probably don't realise is that beneath that calm demeanour, she most likely has the same fears, troubles and anxieties that we all do. It's the same with social media and the appearance of a perfect life - it's what people want you to see, not necessarily the cold, hard, truth.

In regards to Beans anxieties - personally I noticed a huge change in my eldest's behaviour, after I had gone and had my own behaviour sorted out. It's not perfect by a long shot but there have been noticeable improvements. Perhaps when you are in a happier and more positive place, Bean will be too! Whatever the case you are doing a marvellous job - don't let anyone tell you otherwise. :)

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