0 comment Sunday, June 22, 2014 | admin
I have difficulty with Saturdays.
As you might have deduced from things I've written, our kids are what you might call 'high maintenance'.
We have to keep a structured weekend, one that is stimulating yet not overly stimulating. And we have to get out of the house if possible. A day with four of us stuck in the whole time is not good. If the weather is on our side we can at least just go to a park, but if it's not, we have to think of something else.
And That's why I hate Saturdays - it's difficult going places on a Saturday because everywhere is just so busy; the roads are busy, parking is difficult, there are queues everywhere. Cinemas, bowling, swimming, soft play centres, town centre, everywhere's packed. Cheaper places like museums or council run historical houses and such, I love, but the kids hate.
And, apparently, this problem is enough to turn me into a crappy mother every time that day of the week comes around. Saturdays are my very worst day as a parent. I don't want to spend time with the kids. I find it hard to be therapeutic. I feel resentful that I can't do what I want to do, even if I don't know what that is.
Today (a Saturday) husband decided that we were going to spend the afternoon in the garden as the weather was unexpectedly sunny. Of course, by the time we had had lunch it had turned overcast, chilly and started to spit rain. So I set us all a little project and we worked on it together in the living room. It was then I noticed something. The kids were hyper. We were supposed to be having quiet time together, drawing and such, but they were constantly bombarding me with nonsense chatter, fidgeting, unable to apply themselves for more than three seconds at a time to the task in hand. Over the hour we were together, nothing calmed them, not my soft tone of voice, not the low-key activities, not the quietness. They would not come down to my level of emotional regulation.
If you had watched my kids this afternoon you'd have thought them ADHD.
All day too, as usual, my kids have stalked me. If I walked past the room they were in, one of them jumped out at me to ask me a nonsense question. If I went to the toilet, one of them was outside the door when I came out. If I was in the kitchen, they found a reason to be in there too. If I was upstairs, there was suddenly something urgent they needed to do in their rooms. On the day I am at my worst, they want me the most.
I began to wonder. Is this the real reason that I find Saturdays such a strain? Or are they like this on Saturdays because of how I am? It's a chicken and egg thing: which came first, the untherapeutic mother or the hyper kids?
In any case, the solution is the same: we need to get out on Saturday afternoons. I am much better with them out of the house and the kids benefit from burning off some energy.
But...
then...
... it's difficult going places on a Saturday because everywhere is just so busy; the roads are busy, parking is difficult, there are queues everywhere...
As you might have deduced from things I've written, our kids are what you might call 'high maintenance'.
We have to keep a structured weekend, one that is stimulating yet not overly stimulating. And we have to get out of the house if possible. A day with four of us stuck in the whole time is not good. If the weather is on our side we can at least just go to a park, but if it's not, we have to think of something else.
And That's why I hate Saturdays - it's difficult going places on a Saturday because everywhere is just so busy; the roads are busy, parking is difficult, there are queues everywhere. Cinemas, bowling, swimming, soft play centres, town centre, everywhere's packed. Cheaper places like museums or council run historical houses and such, I love, but the kids hate.
And, apparently, this problem is enough to turn me into a crappy mother every time that day of the week comes around. Saturdays are my very worst day as a parent. I don't want to spend time with the kids. I find it hard to be therapeutic. I feel resentful that I can't do what I want to do, even if I don't know what that is.
Today (a Saturday) husband decided that we were going to spend the afternoon in the garden as the weather was unexpectedly sunny. Of course, by the time we had had lunch it had turned overcast, chilly and started to spit rain. So I set us all a little project and we worked on it together in the living room. It was then I noticed something. The kids were hyper. We were supposed to be having quiet time together, drawing and such, but they were constantly bombarding me with nonsense chatter, fidgeting, unable to apply themselves for more than three seconds at a time to the task in hand. Over the hour we were together, nothing calmed them, not my soft tone of voice, not the low-key activities, not the quietness. They would not come down to my level of emotional regulation.
If you had watched my kids this afternoon you'd have thought them ADHD.
All day too, as usual, my kids have stalked me. If I walked past the room they were in, one of them jumped out at me to ask me a nonsense question. If I went to the toilet, one of them was outside the door when I came out. If I was in the kitchen, they found a reason to be in there too. If I was upstairs, there was suddenly something urgent they needed to do in their rooms. On the day I am at my worst, they want me the most.
I began to wonder. Is this the real reason that I find Saturdays such a strain? Or are they like this on Saturdays because of how I am? It's a chicken and egg thing: which came first, the untherapeutic mother or the hyper kids?
In any case, the solution is the same: we need to get out on Saturday afternoons. I am much better with them out of the house and the kids benefit from burning off some energy.
But...
then...
... it's difficult going places on a Saturday because everywhere is just so busy; the roads are busy, parking is difficult, there are queues everywhere...