Right

[ailbhe]

The high point of my day was standing in Hyde Park crying, watching Linnea and Emer run through the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain. It was cold, and they kept it up for almost 45 minutes.

Astrid was warm and asleep on my back.

I remember looking at the people around, wondering what they thought, and saying to myself, "This, this is what failure looks like - if anyone speaks to me that is what I'll tell them."

No-one did.

Today didn't go well. When Rob got up a little after six, Linnea was already up. I'd last seen her shortly before 11pm. I got up a while later and packed the bag - blanket, nappies, spare trousers for the big girls and spare everything for Astrid. About 8am I put on a load of laundry and started tidying up so that the paid cleaning lady could come while we were out.

Then I found the tray of tiny bits of Lego, and the cut up bits of paper, and...

We didn't leave the house until shortly before 11am, and Linnea threw such a screaming tantrum on the way to the station that we almost turned back. In hindsight, we should have, but Emer has been looking forward to going to London to see where Rob works for SO LONG that I didn't want to.

I gave Linnea a snack on the station platform , because snacks cure a lot of issues. Then we got on the train to go one stop to the local main station. When we got off, Linnea needed the bathroom.

She locked herself in a cubicle screaming for 45 minutes. After about 30, she went from enraged to distressed, and I called a friend to see what we could do.

Then a very very nice granny came and helped. A cleaner talked to Linnea over the door, and the granny helped her get her clothes on and wash her hands, so that Linnea didn't have to talk to me, and we got moving again.

To get from our house to the platform for the train to London took two hours. It usually takes 20 minutes or less.

We met a friend in Paddington and he bought us lunch. Linnea remarked that her throat had something hot and went in it and I looked - her tonsils were up and I gave her some paracetamol. She didn't want to go home so we went to walk across Hyde Park to meet Rob; we would have been just in time for him to finish work.

She ran away just before the statue of Peter Pan and again at the Princess Di Memorial Fountain. And in the fountain, which is like a squarish artificial stream of varying depths rather than a spray, she got wet. And whenever we even approached to explain that wet would be cold soon and it was getting late and so on, she ran away screaming, and eventually, eventually, eventually Emer joined in too, because it was more fun than what the grownups were doing, which was basically standing in the cold.

Eventually I sent our friend away as he had things to do and wasn't able to help. And I told Rob what was going on. And I settled into wait it out.

It was a cold day to stand in the wind waiting for children. Astrid was asleep on my back.

And I watched them getting colder and wetter and I cried because being cold and wet is awful, and they were going to be.

Rob came, and rounded them up. Emer was wet from the waist down. Linnea was much wetter. We bullied and harassed them across the park until we found a bit out of the wind, in some sort of roman-arch-based set of alcoves, and stripped Linnea completely, rubbed her dry with a clean cloth nappy, and dressed her in her own spare trousers, Rob's fleece-lined jacket, and her wet shoes. She also wore Rob's fleece hat. Then we sat her on the blanket while we stripped Emer - because she was dry, not dripping, we could do it in two halves, so she didn't get as cold. She wore her own clean trousers, Rob's jumper, and Rob's hi-vis vest as a windproof layer. Astrid woke up during all this, warm and happy on my back.

We wrapped Emer in the blanket, because she was too tired to walk, and we marched Linnea ahead of me. We got to Paddington while it was still light enough outside to see easily. And we fed them hot soup and I found a Boots selling women's socks so they got their feet warmed up. And after about a million years and a bunch of donuts and two cups of decaf coffee, I felt warmer too. And we got the train home.

There are two good things about today which show that I am in general improving: At no point did I feel suicidal, and after we left the house, I didn't lose my temper at all, even when my children were at their most demonic, most self-destructive, most horrendously hideous and hateful.

But throughout it all Linnea kept up a steady stream of how much she hates me, that I hate her, that I want to kill her, that if I touch her I'll kill her, that I want her dead, that I only had children to hurt them, that it was all my fault, that I made everyone late on purpose, that I stopped her sleeping last night (by tidying her room the day before, which made it All Wrong), that I woke her up extra-early by tidying her room so her mattress is as hard as concrete.

I can't imagine what kind of award would be appropriate.

Comments

[rmc28]

You didn't lose your temper? You are awesome.

[gool_duck]

You are amazing. You got through today, you did all this stuff and you took care of three children and you didn't lose your temper. Even though one was getting ill and taking it out on you. Even though it was a longer and tougher day than you anticipated. You are good.
*Tea*

[aquaeri]

You definitely deserve an award for motherhood. My gosh.

[sfred]

Erk. That sounds really difficult to deal with. Well done for coping.

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

Oh my God, I can't think up a big enough award. Except for, well, a better day tomorrow.

And I can't imagine not losing my temper or losing my shit completely in a situation like that, so well done you.

[thereyougothen.livejournal.com]

OH my. I'm in total awe that you managed to keep your temper through all of that. No award could be sufficient.
I'm glad for you that you managed it as well as you did. And I hope I could do as well some day. I am more likely to shout and cry along with the children.

[jexia]

I am proud of you. That would be incredibly difficult, and you got through it.

[batswing.livejournal.com]

Oh my God.
You're amazing. I don't think I would have had your strength and patience today. I would have been yelling and dragging.

I cannot begin to imagine how hard it must have been to cope with all of that.

[whirligigwitch.livejournal.com]

What a hideous day for you - you did wonderfully through all of that. *hugs*

[(Anonymous)]

I totally agree, You coped amazingly well with a horrendous display of childish awfulness. I could not have done that.
Diz - lost my login

[helenprev.livejournal.com]

That all sounds completely hideous. You have my every sympathy. Have shedloads of tea, because that is my answer to almost everything.

I have a son who has always claimed that in a tidy bedroom he can't sleep because it gives him nightmares. I've never come across another child who said anything like that, so am faintly reassured in a strange sort of way!

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

I once yelled at my visiting grandmother, who thought she was being helpful and supportive by making all our beds while we were at school. (I grew up with the sheets-and-blankets style, not a duvet, and I liked having everything scrunched around me rather than tucked in rigidly the way my grandmother did it.)

[ailbhe]

Interesting. I need to figure out some way that it can be cluttered enough to feel safe to her and uncluttered enough to BE safe for everyone.

[cyan-blue.livejournal.com]

Many hugs... you did an awesome job at keeping your cool with the kids.

Is there a counselor at her school, perhaps, who could check in with her to help her learn to cope with strong and scary emotions?

[taimatsu]

Well done. You got through. *virtual coconut ice*

[sidheag.livejournal.com]

Maybe it's sudden changes in tidiness which are the problem more than the absolute state? I remember feeling that a bit, anyway, although I rather liked tidy despite my total inability to keep the room that way, so it was disconcerting rather than upsetting.

In case it helps, C likes to tell me that I hate him, that he doesn't want to exist any more, etc., too. I have resorted to treating this kind of talk like hitting: it isn't allowed. ("You can tell me how you feel, but you don't get to tell me how I feel" and even, dangerously, "you're saying that in order to hurt me, not because it's true; that's not allowed".) Difficult to enforce, though, and I have no idea what I could have done differently from what you did in this set of circs. I suppose you couldn't have been confident she'd follow if you'd just said "I'm going now, you need to come too" and walked off without looking back?

[ailbhe]

I am absolutely confident that if I'd done that she would definitely not even have tried to follow me for some time after I was out of sight. Emer would have followed me having screaming hysterics because I was leaving Linnea behind.

[browngirl.livejournal.com]

*hugs you transoceanically* I don't evn know what to say. Wow.

[trinker.livejournal.com]

When I have days like that, I console myself with chocolate cookies.

You are a hero mama for the day. (And every day, but especially for this day.)

Your honesty about days like this sustains me when I have rotten days with the kids, myself. Thank you so much for that. Without your example, I think I'd fall into the dread imagining that I was the only mother ever to feel so wretched. And that everything must be All My Fault.

I am tempted to suggest dropping a pound into a special "here, go have therapy when you're old enough to complain about this again" fund for every day that's like this, except that I think I myself would find it disheartening on the awful days, even if I'd find it darkly amusing on the better ones.

In my estimation, you did wonderfully.

[rosefox]

You are awe-inspiring.

Linnea reminds me a lot of me at that age. Always hurting, always angry. Poor mite.

[clanwilliam.livejournal.com]

I am in complete awe of your patience and ability to cope. Even if you felt you weren't coping, my goodness you DID.

[thereyougothen.livejournal.com]

I was never sure that either of mine would follow, so I never did that. I have walked quite a distance away, to give myself space, both physical and mental, but never out of sight.

[gloriap.livejournal.com]

You deserve sainthood. I couldn't have maintained that kind of composure for five minutes. Is Linnea as cruel when she talks to Rob?

[nwhyte]

Crumbs, Ailbhe, what an awful day.

If I may say so, it does sound like Linnea might benefit from some professional help. She is a very special person, and I think will grow up to do amazing things - that much is clear even to the casual acquaintance like me from meeting her only briefly. But this pattern of behaviour, which has been going on for a while now, is not really on the normal healthy spectrum, and even the most dedicated and loving parents cannot reasonably be expected to carry it on their own.

[tiggsybabes.livejournal.com]

I think I would have shouted, well done *tea* x