The previous day, my 4-year-old daughter, Zoe, spent the entire day in tears. This emotional outpouring wasn’t a one-time occurrence; it had been ongoing for several days. Adjusting to the new school schedule has challenged her sleep patterns and made the transition from home to pre-kindergarten particularly difficult.
For a child of her age, such emotional turmoil is entirely understandable. It’s akin to dropping an adult, accustomed to modern comforts, straight into an unfamiliar and isolated environment, giving them a sarcastic goodbye while you fly away. The adjustment is monumental for a little one.
Cognitively, I grasp the reasons behind Zoe’s emotional state. However, understanding does not equate to maintaining my composure. Last night, when she declared the dinner I prepared was “strange” and began to sob uncontrollably, I found myself at a loss. Other triggers over the past few days included her shorts feeling “off,” a friend’s light touch on her shoulder, and my request for her to move her cup away from the edge of the table.
The peak of this exhausting saga occurred at bedtime when she insisted on co-sleeping. The only times we’ve shared a bed were right after her birth and during family trips. With my husband’s restless sleeping habits, the last thing I needed was another small body beside me.
Despite my efforts to be patient and understanding over the past few days, I eventually reached my limit. I had offered hugs, soothing words, explanations, distractions, and even songs. I took deep breaths, attempting to channel calmness through my very being.
Yet, as the day dragged on, I felt myself unravel. Zoe was yelling that she would never sleep alone again. I tried to remain calm and assertive: “It’s time for bed.” I attempted empathy: “I know it’s been tough. I’ll rub your back.” I even resorted to discipline: “Don’t speak to me like that.” But finally, I exploded: “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!! I’M LOSING MY MIND!!! I’M DONE! I’M OUT OF HERE!”
While my husband stayed with Zoe, I stepped outside and paced the driveway. I needed to escape the sound of her crying. I was on the verge of either screaming or throwing something in frustration. So, I walked away.
For a fleeting moment, I contemplated tossing her nightstand at the dresser, imagining the chaos it would create. I envisioned myself yelling at my innocent 4-year-old, who was struggling with her own emotions, while I completely lost control. The only thing that stopped me was the realization that I shouldn’t act on such thoughts.
To those who argue that it was fine since my husband was present: I would have left even if he hadn’t been there. In moments like these, where the choice is between losing control and temporarily stepping away, taking a breather can be a wise decision. Perhaps, if my husband hadn’t been home, I would have simply retreated to the bathroom for a quiet moment or enjoyed a glass (or bottle) of wine outside.
I share this experience not to lament my actions but to assert that it’s okay for parents to step back when overwhelmed. The guilt we often feel is unwarranted. If the choice is between maintaining your composure and walking away for a few minutes, know that it’s perfectly acceptable to do so. These are the challenging realities of parenting, and sometimes, the best option is to check out for a brief period.
For more insights on navigating parenthood, you can explore other informative posts on our blog, such as this one. Additionally, for couples considering their fertility journey, this resource offers valuable information. The CDC also provides an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination, which can be found here.
In closing, know that parenting comes with its ups and downs, and it’s okay to prioritize your well-being.