I recently got an email from a blog reader who said she had been obsessively reading and re-reading my first post, and all the comments that followed it. I wanted to include an excerpt of her email here, but wasn’t able to get in touch with her to get permission. (If you’re out there, my email kept bouncing back!)
Suffices to say, after years of managing what sounds like a challenging career and raising young children, she said she feared she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She wanted to know if I could see my own breakdown coming, and if so, what were the “warning bells”?
There were warning bells. I’ll tell you all about them, and perhaps more importantly, what I tried to do about them. They started almost as soon as I took a full-time job, when my daughter was 8 months old and my stepdaughter was still a toddler. They went right on ringing, on and off, for more than five years, until I quit.
Once, when I thought I was going to have to fire someone, I broke out in itchy red hives all over my body. Another time, I had a panic attack in the middle of a client meeting.
I was still getting used to being a parent, and I found the home-to-work-back-home routine grueling. We had no family in the area to help when one of us had to travel out of town for work or we just needed time to paint the kitchen. Normal people seemed to go about their lives fixing meals and mowing the lawn. We, on the other hand, seemed to be moving through mud, one child attached to each ankle.
And then there was the physical part. No one had warned us what a toll parenting takes on your body. The backaches from lugging children and all their stuff around, the twisting and contorting into strange positions to nurse and talk on the phone at the same time, or to stretch for a pacifier that has rolled under the couch, exactly out of arm’s reach. The illnesses. The sleep deprivation. I developed an eye twitch that went on for months. It felt like a little moth had taken up residence in my eyelid.
I became aware for the first time that my energy was a precious resource, and I had to conserve it. Every movement had to have a purpose. If I went upstairs to get my watch, I took an armload of toys with me. On the way down, I brought the basket of dirty laundry. Every action invoked at least one other action. I ate standing up while I made the kids’ dinner. I coordinated trips to the gym with a friend so I could have some much needed social connection and exercise at the same time.
Sometimes at night, I would lie in bed and feel the earth spinning under me, as if I’d just gotten off a carnival ride. I heard the bells, all right, and I knew for whom they were tolling.
The problem was, it was hard to believe that there was anything wrong with the way I was living. Wasn’t this what everybody did? Busyness was indeed expected, normalized.
Naturally, then, the problem had to be with me. I just needed to try harder.
I noticed that when I didn’t sleep enough, I was much more likely to get sick. If one of the girls was up at night, then there wasn’t much I could do. But if the kids were sleeping, it was inexcusable to lie awake. I took herbal sleep remedies for bad nights, and for really bad nights, I had sleeping pills. Brian and I alternated getting up with the kids on the weekend so we each had one day when we could sleep in until 8 or 9 am. I almost never drank alcohol because it made me wake up in the middle of the night. There was a 6 a.m. yoga class I tried to go to three times a week because, although it felt like a wild indulgence, it gave me more energy to deal with screaming kids and cranky clients and it helped me sleep. I quit coffee. That was not easy to do, quitting coffee. I had terrible headaches for a week, but once I adjusted to drinking tea it wasn’t so bad.
To make the most of our precious non-working time, Brian created an elaborate schedule for the weekends that carefully balanced “family time” and “alone time” for each of us. We had an alternate schedule for weekends when we didn’t have Martha.
Still it wasn’t enough.
Brian threw his back out a few times so badly he could barely walk. We both developed various forms of repetitive stress injury in our hands. When we were beyond exhausted, we would start silly arguments with each other that would last for days, until we no longer remembered why we were supposed to be mad.
In the equation of money versus time, we had money, but no amount of scheduling could resolve our lack of time. So, we used our money to buy time.
We hired Dinora to clean our house. We hired Thania to take care of Ruby during the day, and once a month she hosted a “date night” for all the families in her daycare, which Ruby never missed. We hired Jesús to mow the lawn and weed the garden. Many days, it seemed like the only thing keeping us going was the hard work of Latin American immigrants.
We did most of our own laundry, but we sent out Brian’s work shirts to be laundered, to avoid the ironing. We hired Ed to do our taxes. We hired an arborist to trim our trees. We hired a parade of IT people to climb up into our dusty attic and tinker with our wireless network, and each one of them ridiculed whoever had worked it on last. We had produce delivered to the house once a week, and if we remembered, we added bread and milk to the delivery to save a trip to the store.
Over the months, we learned endless ways to buy a little time with a little money:
- When it’s your day to bring the snack to preschool, buy pre-cut fruit and cheese.
- When you order a take-out dinner, order extra for the kids’ lunches.
- Outsource the birthday parties to the YMCA Kindergym or Pump-It-Up (“The Inflatable Party Zone!”) where there is no set up, no clean up, no cooking, and for an extra fee, they make the goodie bags that parents use to lure their children back into the car when the party’s over.
- Join a gym with good childcare, so if one parent has to work on the weekend, the other can take the kids and still get some exercise.
We bought everything we could buy online—clothes, diapers, books, computer supplies. We kept to a strict 8 pm bedtime schedule for the kids, even if they didn’t seem tired, because there was so much that had to get done after they were in bed. After vowing I would never do this, we used the TV many mornings and evenings and sometimes on weekend afternoons when we needed to clean or pack up the car or just have a moment of peace.
We couldn’t afford for one of us to stop working, but we felt very lucky that we could afford the extra help.
How do families do it when both parents have to work fulltime and they’re still living paycheck to paycheck?
How do single parents do it?
We took elaborate measures to cope, money ran through our hands at an alarming rate, and still it wasn’t enough. When our coping strategies stopped working and we found ourselves teetering on the edge, we brought in the experts. We found a wonderful couple’s therapist and learned to stop taking our stress out on each other. I saw an acupuncturist when I developed a nerve problem in my hands, and I saw him again when I had a cough that wouldn’t go away. I found a naturopath who tested my saliva and prescribed Vitamin B shots and a complicated mix of amino acids and yet more herbs. Brian subjected himself to weekly allergy shots for months, and then a miracle happened. His allergies improved. He, too, started working out more, and his back pain finally subsided.
All these strategies, supplements, and support systems, all of our combined ingenuity, made it possible, just barely, for both of us to keep working full time. And then our son was born. And that is a story for another day.
* * *
I love hearing from blog readers, and blog readers tell me they love reading your comments. What’s your story? Are you hearing warning bells? What are you doing about them?
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{ 29 comments… read them below or add one }
More like an air raid siren. No one can say parents aren’t resourceful. When you think of all the things we try to keep the plates spinning. When I became a parent the first time I began working on getting a transfer to a more manageable position. In fact, the day that I got back from maternity leave I submitted a transfer request. It was something about the 100+ voicemails that were waiting for me. For the first few days I just stared at the phone and tried not to cry. At other moments I felt giddy at the vacation of being away from home all day. It was strangely easy to compartmentalize. And then, one day, my transfer came through and I changed jobs.
When my son came home I, too, broke out in hives the week I returned to work. I also had heart palpitations and had to wear this strange contraption under my blouse to work to monitor my heart. I had an uncle who died at 42 of a heart attack and was hoping that I wouldn’t be orphaning my two kids anytime soon.
Other things that kept me afloat: antidepressants, sleeping pills, herbal sleep remedies, babysitters, housecleaners, good friends, alcohol, and, of course, my beautiful kids.
Yesterday at work I felt as if I were having a heart attack. My chest was tight and I couldn’t breathe.
Last night, I went home and drank too much.
This morning, I frantically searched for my bottle of Xanax like a junkie because I knew I couldn’t make it through the day without it.
A few minutes ago, I called my therapist and made an emergency appointment for this afternoon. For which I will have to sneak out of work 15 minutes early to attend. And if I get caught, I may get fired for leaving a few minutes early.
I am right in the middle of this hell right now. This is for the birds. I’m desperately trying to get out by lining up enough freelance work to get by, but that’s not easy, as we’re also one of those two income families who hardly make ends meet.
Thanks for this blog, though, because it’s one of my lifelines.
@Kim and @Amy. I am so, so sorry. THANK YOU for sharing that. I worry about my posts being too negative, but I also worry that if we don’t talk about the problem then we can’t fix it.
If we don’t talk about what’s really going on, we think we’re the only ones struggling, and that means we’re doing something wrong when the fact is this is RIDICULOUSLY hard and it’s MORE ridiculous to think we can do it all without help.
I’ve been reading about the International Baby Strike which I’ll write about soon. Countries where women have said enough is enough, they can’t do it all, and they just stop having babies. This creates a serious problem for society. The low birth rate in these countries (below “replacement” levels) means the next generation will have a shortage of workers, soldiers, taxpayers, etc. So there’s a strong incentive for governments and workplaces to HELP women juggle it all. Makes you think–we’re providing a valuable service to society, why should it all be on our shoulders to make it work?
I think it is good for me to remember all the money you spent trying to make it work, and still it all fell apart b/c you had to work all the time to make that money. I have warning bells (e.g., twitching eye, repetitive thoughts about winning the lottery or what I am going to bring for snack to my daughter’s school, crazy obsessions with teen-age vampire books and British spy shows, excessive eating and weight gain, BAD headaches, inability to make decisions, tears randomly dripping from my eyes while driving to work, not getting important projects done at work….exhaustion and non-stop housecleaning). Throughout it all I have this belief that if we just had more money I would feel better. It is good to remember that the job I would need to have to get this money would take away the only thing keeping me sane – my flexible, understanding, low paying job.
I’m welling up just reading this latest post.
I am returning to work (full time) next week after a glorious 8 month maternity leave. I have two kids ages 4 years and 8 months. Luckily, I’m going back to a job that I love and to co-workers that I adore.
However….. my husband and I both have 40 minute commutes, each way. We all leave the house by 7:00, and both kids eat 2 of 3 meals and all snacks at daycare/pre-K. (Hello? Feel guilty much??) If we are getting home at 5:30 or 6:00 every day, how do we cook, eat, play, bathe and get the kids to bed by 7:30 and 8:00? Added to the mix is that my husband is working towards a MBA and has classes two evening a week, not to mention study time on weekends. There are also occasional work commitments on weekends for both of us. We haven’t employed a housecleaner, but that may be coming…
I can’t use the crock pot every night. How is it all going to get done? We would both love to work fewer hours, but aren’t in jobs that allow for that. If only I could work 6 or 7 hours a day, I think I could swing it all.
I stopped working fulltime 8 years ago.
I had my 1st daughter and took a year off (and took out a loan to be able to continue to pay for “my half” of household expenses). Returning to work, even though my employers were understanding and willing to let me work whenever I want, just didn’t work out at all. I had to be with my baby. I had an emotional anxiety filled ordeal, complete with storming out of the office, a breakdown, medication, therapists, weight loss, depression…
Months later I decided to go to massage school (and take out a loan to pay for it). This helped me very much. I learned so much about myself, about what I needed to heal, and most amazingly how to help others heal. My daughter grew up and entered school, I took clients during those hours. I didn’t make as much as before, but as the years went by I learned to rely on my husbands income more (I was too proud before) and most importantly, I learned to live without lots of costly extra things (including the energy it “cost” me to keep a clean house))
The story doesn’t end there though, because I had another baby almost 2 years ago. I haven’t really done any work but full time mothering/executive household planning since. I am still deeply in debt. My husband works all the time and I do most (ok, all) the parenting. But, I am not anxious anymore. I do not have panic attacks. I know I will get to work again when my 2nd daughter is a little older.
Looking back I wish I let go of my pride and my sense of obligation a little bit sooner. I wish I trusted more that things would work out (as all things do). I think it would have saved me lots of anxiety.
So I got a little side-tracked above.., I meant to say that the warning bells for me were the ever-present sense of dis-ease, the constant feeling of utter failure and lots of sadness/dissatisfaction with my whole world.
holly, i really appreciate your comment and the honesty of Katrina’s blog. i think so much of the time we don’t have a place to share, vent and just be open about how hard it all is. breaking that down to me is a helpful way to acknowledge the bells. the issue of money is an interesting one. when i worked domestically on AIDS in New Orleans i have this vivid memory of a panel presentation of people living with HIV. the man talked about his herbalist, his therapist, his acupuncture and all the other supports he has for his 4 remaining t-cells that he named endearingly. next came a woman, who lived in the projects and had 5 kids. she spent her time talking about her children, what she needed to do for them, how hard it was to get diapers, get them to a good school etc. and when some of this worked, that’s how she coped. i was struck by the difference of course and what money buys and how the definition of coping can change. money is so clearly a privilege, it can help – but as katrina says its not always the answer and sometimes as holly noted, a bit of less pay check may help to create a bit more sanity (of course, if your fundamentals are covered..)
I love the bell – it is HUGE! And despite the clanging – we just keep charging ahead. I’m still not sure how to find balance. Quitting or reducing hours is not an option – I am the sole money-maker in our family of 4 at this time. Luckily I have one of those jobs with flexibility, but only two of us in the office have young kids -its hard not to feel guilty and more stressed for the time I take. And when I take extra time, I can’t get my work done.
Linda
@Linda I felt the same way about having “one of those jobs with flexibility.” It was great, except for the steaming piles of guilt that went along with it. It got a little easier when other people in my office started having kids, but I don’t think we ever reached that tipping point where it was the norm to have kids.
My own advice is this: If you’re hearing warning bells from the stress and life just pulling you down, cut back. Cut back EVERYTHING you can. The kids can do without soccer and ballet for a season or two. The extended family WILL survive with gift cards or just kid hand prints on construction paper for Christmas. Your yard can be messy and it won’t make much of a difference in the spinning of the world. Because you only get ONE CHANCE to live. Do you really want to spend it driving to practices every other night? Your kids will probably appreciate the chance to just BE. We all need a chance to just BE. To breathe and sit and exist without giving into the perpetual motion that society deems necessary. Some people seem to think that there is greater value in living life at extreme velocities. But there is NO prize for being the busiest person. Dying with a wall full of trophies doesn’t mean you lived a better life than the person who meditated in an unkempt yard. It just means you were more tired.
This has just become my new mission statement in life!!!!
Hi Tracey,
I agree in theory about cutting back everything you can when you find yourself too busy. Christmas cards? Never heard of them. Messy yard? Check.
The problem for many of us is that even just doing the basics–working, commuting, getting food on the table, giving kids their baths–even this is too much sometimes. This goes beyond each individual’s problem. It’s a collective problem.
The U.S. has the HIGHEST PERCENTAGE of full-time working women of any country in the world. A recent poll by Pew Research Center found that 60% of full-time working moms would prefer to work part-time but don’t have that option. Most of us can’t afford to stop working, and many of us don’t want to. But we need better options.
Please don’t misunderstand me! I don’t count working as a “hobby” or something that can be easily cut out. I worked for the first 15 months of my eldest’s life and that was beyond difficult. I cannot imagine doing it with the 3 I now have! (Though, I do homeschool them, so that IS a full-time job that never seems to end. I don’t get any breaks in my day and the pay REALLY sucks.)
But what you say about the basics? I do think that even those can be cut back. Meals don’t need to be fancy and leftovers are a must. Bathing in the US is highly overdone. I’ll bet people’s kids are way more clean than they realize. They can be cut back in a lot of families, too. (my neighbor has 6 kids who all bathe EVERY NIGHT. That is just way too ambitious for me!)
That said, I am home nearly all day every day and my ability to “get things done” isn’t very, um, good. In fact, it is pretty pathetic. But I have really tried to let go of the idea that there is a “right way” to do things. There are lots of ways to do everything, including living.
I am crossing my fingers that everyone who feels the stress from everyday parenting can find some release and reprieve from the need to “do it all.” We all just want to live happy lives. I hope you are living yours!
Hi Katrina,
I’m a new blogger and new reader and find your site very interesting. I think that broader statement you made: “If this is hard for me, how are other people with less resources managing?” is absolutely key. Mothers need to get mad! I’m really beginning to believe there is a Mother’s Movement brewing. There is so much value in educated Moms reproducing but it’s up to us to make that case — and pretty darn soon, right?
I’m in the full-time grind too but I have one son and my husband has an opposite schedule as me. Plus he’s union, so he’s got plenty of time off to help if our son gets sick. A real luxury.
I personally felt like I was overcommitting on weekends. So now, there are no plans on one day. We’ll skip a party to take a walk in a canyon with our dog or so that I can fold the clothes.
Establishing limits, going to sleep by 11PM and taking Emergen-C every day has really done wonders for me. My big complaint right now is that I have to stay tethered to my office chair instead of spending time with my son. Even though being a Mom made me super-efficient at my job, I still need to log 40 hours to cover child-care/preschool. Stupid, no?
Katrina,
I love reading your blog, it is so “spot on” about the challenges of being a
working mom these days.
I have three kids, ages 11 to 5. For the first 7 years of mommy-hood I taught at an incredible school that allowed me to work four days a week. And although there were plenty of times I resented having to grade papers on the weekend or prepare lessons in the evenings, there were just as many days where I relished going to work to escape from the chaos of parenting.
Then I moved and changed jobs. I worked at a much less supportive school where all teachers had to work full time, and when you took time off during the day or left early your pay was docked. The recession hit and we were all told we would need to work even harder; we were “lucky to have jobs.” After three years a number of us were laid off. I was thrilled. I would neve have had the guts to quit, even though I was miserable, dreaded going to work most mornings, was chronically exhausted, and consumed with guilt.
I’ve now been a full-time mom for a year and a half, and although I love the time I spend volunteering at my children’s schools, I do miss the creative outlet teaching provided.
For me the best option is definitely part-time work. Perhaps if more men had to take on the bulk of the child-rearing burden, maybe there would be more flexibility and part-time opportunities in the work-place.
Thanks, Stephanie. I suspect more flexibility and part-time options would solve a good half of our problems. Paid maternity leave, with incentives for dads to take time off (like these guys: http://wp.me/pVKXl-j7), would probably get us another 25% of the way there. So then we’d only be 25% insane.
This is my favorite post so far (aside from Katrina’s very first post). It really struck a chord with me and I re-read it several times!!
I loved the visual of Katrina maximizing every minute and every ounce of her energy. I, too, try to accomplish something in every spare minute I have. I feel like lack of time is my enemy and I’m always running from it. I check email on my iPhone in the bathroom between meetings, and make my personal calls on my walk from the subway to my office. Every single minute is maximized and I multitask constantly.
My husband and I both work full-time and commute, and our toddler (who has a serious health condition that adds to our stress level and complicates our life) is in daycare 5 days/week, on the other side of the Bay from where we both work. I have no option for part-time or flex-time with my job, even though I work for a large non-profit. There are no formal policies in place to support working parents, and its solely at the discretion of mangers.
I love my job and the organization I work for, and we can’t afford our mortgage if I don’t work, but I often feel like the grueling “home-to-work-back-home routine,” combined with the stress of a very demanding job and a child with health issues, is just too much to bear and many times I wonder how long I can keep it up.
I am the reader who wrote to Katrina and inspired this post. I cannot believe I am just now realizing that you actually responded, Katrina! But I am so glad you did.
I wrote my e-mail to Katrina about two months ago and happened to revisit this site today because I am feeling exactly as I did when I wrote it. When will it end, if ever? The litany of loads of laundry to wash and fold? The treadmill that is a metaphor for my busyness, just as it is the literal contraption on which I run to appear to have it together (“Honey, you don’t even look like a mother!”)? The balancing and multitasking of cooking dinner while monitoring my Blackberry and writing e-mails while making plates?
It’s all this and much more, and, really, it’s just too much. The well gets deeper when it’s encoded with the cultural weight and expectations and judgements I am apt to face as an African-American mother.
We don’t sink, we swim. We don’t cry, we fly. We don’t sigh, we deny!
What does t he solution look like for me? I haven’t a clue. Maybe Katrina’s ad hoc online therapy will help me find a way.
@Black Married Momma
Don’t know the solution either–its so subjective–but recognizing the problem seems like a good first step. So glad you came back!
I work 50 hours a week as VP of Operations at a very fast paced organization. I have a 10 month old daughter. My husband works about 30 hours / week and makes about one third what I do.
This weekend my mother in law is visiting. I got home tonight to find my daughter in different pants than I put her in this morning. The explanation I received from my husband: “We really need to sweep our floors…my mom said her pants were so dirty she didn’t want to take her to Costco in them so she changed her.” At which point he proceeded to sit on the couch during the 2 1/2 hours it took me to feed, bathe, bed the baby and then SWEEP THE FLOOR.
We’re not speaking right now. And trust me when I say, through my venemous anger at his complete ignorance at this moment, he’s one of the GOOD ONES!
This crap is for the birds.
I keep telling myself not to forgot how ridiculously hard this is. Because when my kids are grown up and have kids of their own, I don’t want to be the mother in law making critical comments about housekeeping and lounging on the couch. I want to be able to help them out.
I have worked as a freelancer for a long time, and for many years, I worked 60 hours per week. I was working on the days I went into labor with each of my kids, and working on the days they were born. I kept them home for their first years–sometimes with help in the house, and later they went to daycare and/or had a babysitter. But eventually, I completely burned out. I feel like I’ve had mono for 3 or 4 years now. The kids are in school, but it’s a challenge to get my “only” 20 hours of work done, clean the house, run errrands, make and keep appointments, plan and make meals, clean and do laundry, take care of pets, garden, yard… And then in the afternoons or evenings, shuttle kids to activities, make meals, help with homework, serve as referee…. Working out and doing my nails seem like distant dreams. I find myself wondering how even mothers of school age kids can wokr full time. My husband and family pressure me to do it, but I feel like I’ll collapse if I even try. I also feel more anxious about their homework and negative classmates and healthy meals than I worried when they were little, just napping, playing with other little kids in a safe environment…
Excuse some strange grammar above, typed that in intervals, between shuttle stops, from phone. 🙂
Strange grammar is happily accepted here! Really appreciate (and relate to) your comment.
To all,
I too am a working mother and find it refreshing to just know that there are others in the same boat. Many days I feel completely overwhelmed, but then other people tell me “you’re not the only one doing this” so there is at least some comfort in that.
I am a faithful person and I truly believe that there is a plan and a reason for this. Maybe it’s to teach me to “let go and let God”; maybe it is to show me that “no, Teresa you are NOT perfect and are not supposed to be” maybe it is to encourage me to reach out and ask others for help. I don’t know yet what the reason is for why it is this way.
My husband and I both work full time. We have twins who are 9 and one is on the autism spectrum, and the other suffers from dealing with it. Seems like through his eyes, “my brother gets more attention than me”. It’s a constant struggle and I literally had to do laundry last night at around midnight so I would have clean pair of underwear for myself to wear to work.
I am typing to you with nails that have such old polish on them from Easter a few weeks ago that they are chipping and look ridiculous but I’ve had no time to take care of it.
There are laundry piles so big waiting for me at home, and it stresses me to even sit in my living room right now because all I see are the disgusting filth on the blinds in my windows, the rug that again has cat stains on it, and the amount of laundry that is FAR too much for one mom to do.
I wake up early to wash favorite shirts for my kids to wear to school.
I swing by the grocery store on the way home to get favorite snack items for their lunches.
I give up exercise time and personal relax and reading time to help them with homework and quiz them one more time on reading lists for tests. I sit with a behaviorist and make charts to monitor my son’s improvement on stress relief, communication, and socialization. I go to cub scouts. I help in Sunday School room every other Sunday or as often as I can get us all up and out the door for church.
I attend weight watchers to try and keep my own body from breaking down. I keep books near the bathroom as that is my only quiet place to hide and read.
I put on my makeup in my cubicle or in the parked car at work when I finally arrive, late.
I think most days I am absolutely NUTS but you know what?
I need the job to keep my mortgage paid. I need the health insurance for my kids, especially for inhalers for asthma, and for evaluations and therapists for the one with autism.
So I do what I can. I pray. I talk to other working Moms. I try and make time each day to be THANKFUL for this crazy life. I try and make sure my husband and I have things to laugh about and compliment each other on how well the other is doing on parenting.
I hug my children and I tell them every day as much as I can how much I love them.
No, I’m not perfect. No I don’t like this pace and some days it drives me absolutely nuts.
but it is what it is, so I’m trying to find ways to get through it and make it to the other side.
There is no sign of me beign able to quit my job, or even find a part time job in the near future, we’re barely making ends meet as it is.
so for now, it’s all I can do to try and find the positives instead of dwelling on all the negatives.
Thank you – this was very helpful!
Stop writing about my life! No really, thank you, your blog posts keep me from railing at the edge of insanity.
My warning bells are sounding loud, I’ve been just about holding it together for 7 years as a single mother working full time. I’m breaking I can feel it. The last year or so I have started to have irrational episodes, panic attacks, I shake and can’t focus on anything. It worsens at holiday times when I can’t take the time off and feel overwhelmed with guilt and desperation as child care becomes a military operation squeezing in snippets of time with my child, ferrying to granny’s for a week and camps for others.
Everything is a rush, a pressure cooker and I am missing her growing up. And when we do have some time it’s such low quality, both overwhelmed with tiredness from long days with child are either end, and aware that us time will quickly be over. I have become a grumpy tired mum, a mummy that has little time and shouts and rushes.
I feel helpless that in this moment I can’t change things quickly, and commitments are such that a change needs to be carefully thought through. And all the time the clock is ticking on her childhood.
I should be with her not strangers at camp or granny. I miss her terribly. I cry a lot and feel do sad. I have to change things a mums life should not be this hard.
Thanks for the blog.