The day we shall no longer speak about*

*Otherwise known as “Happy F***ing Fathers Day Rob!”

Now I know that things round these parts have been a little less than rosy, and I contemplated not mentioning anything about the ‘day of dread’, but then I thought, you know what? It’s actually kind of funny. You know, the way things seem to be working out (or not working out) for us at the moment. So I thought I would share. In any case it might make your shitty Fathers Day seem a little less so. I am nothing, if not generous.

So. Yesterday was Fathers Day here in Australia. Rob had worked ALL week and finally had a day off so I wanted to try my best to make it extra special for him. He has been working so hard, I figured he could use a break. We let him have a little sleep in, then crept upstairs with presents and hot coffee in tow. All was going swimmingly (Rob loved his new jeans I had bought for him which didn’t fit) until the minx knocked over the entire cup of hot coffee all over Rob, the bed, the floor, the bedside table, the pillows, the wall. You name it. Splattered in brown coffee. Which was handy because cleaning up for 30 minutes and frantically trying to get coffee stains out of everything was JUST the thing I wanted to do. It was. I know, it was an innocent accident, but just summed up how things are rolling for us at the mo – the simplest thing turns into a drama. And yes, I will admit to you, the world and the internet that when Daisy turned around and said to me “why fucking hell Mummy?” that I felt like a complete arsehole of a mother. Mental note: MUST. STOP. SWEARING. AROUND. CHILD.

Anyway, so we cleaned up and Daise and I headed out to the shops to get some take away coffee. Came home and cooked the man some bacon and then he headed out to work (poor bastard) for about an hour. We were then planning on heading out to lunch to my sister in law’s family who live in a magnificent spot right on the cliff at Avalon. I had visions to a happy family lunch, Rob sipping on some crisp white wine while everyone fussed over him, and Daisy played nicely with her cousins. Such visions I had!

I will now try and give a little background to Daisy’s behaviour over the past week or so. She has been very much like a 2 year old (read out of control toddler tantrum crazy toddler from hell) and has even thrown in some night terrors for good measure. It’s been a while since we have had these and I have to say it is NOT good to have them back. She has been tired, irritable, and generally pissed off at most things all. the. time. But I know others that have kids her age and it seems like it’s a combo of our current stressful (work) schedule situation, impending birth of babe worries (for all of us) with a side of her age that is making some crazy cocktail of crazy behaviour. My patience has been worn particularly thin given being almost 8 months pregnant and tired and running a solo ship at home while Rob is working, so it’s just been kind of well, shit.

Anyway, so we get in the car to drive up to lunch knowing that Daisy would sleep in the car. Which she did. Rob and I got a chance to have an actual conversation, and while I knew that the wake up would be less than ideal, she would be excited to see everyone and get over it quickly. She did not. She had another terror, and for some reason, I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t bear that it was happening again. Again! It’s one of those moments in parenting for some freak reason where you usually deal with things well, with patience and in a calm manner, then all of a sudden for no reason, you can NO longer deal. Who knows why now? Who knows? But you just can’t handle it. I snapped and had to remove myself from the car so I could sob in peace and try and muster some patience from somewhere to deal with it. I also felt so bad for Rob. And her. All of us really. Why does this keep happening?????! So after about 35 mins, we pulled it together and headed back on the road for lunch that we were now an hour late for. We arrived (me looking less than fabulous with make up down my blotchy face) and proceeded to get an hour of time there before Daisy had the tantrum from hell. From deeper below than hell. It involved a pool. And getting out. And her not wanting to. Did I mention it was bad? It was baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Yes that bad. I can’t even go into details because it literally makes me shudder. But it was horrible.

We left. It was all we could do. I was mortified. Embarrassed. Upset. Ditto Rob. Daisy? HYSTERICAL that we actually followed through on our threats to leave. Horrified that we actually left.

It took many hours to calm down. We got home and all just sat around a little shell shocked, tired and willing the day to end. We were all a little cranky, short tempered. I was frantically trying to search the internet for reasons for her behaviour. Rob had diagnosed her with a brain tumour. I put it down to all I have mentioned before and tried to get some lessons in patience, and the best way to deal with them. It was not a pretty afternoon really.

Anyway. At 6.15pm she was passed out in bed. I poured myself a LARGE glass of wine, said “Happy F***ING Fathers Day baby!” then Rob prepped for his week at work and was in bed by 8. I stayed up a little later to stir Daisy just before the 3 hr mark to try and stop another terror from coming on, and then passed out myself.

What did I say about my birthday a few weeks ago now? That’s right….there’s always next year. And this year shall never be spoken of again. Okay?

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/18020050924739263553 Katy

    Oh dear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/07219272193124932806 PinkPatentMaryJanes

    Faaaaaaaarrk.

    That’s bad.

    However, good on your for following through, must have been hell!

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/13741907859944987779 Chatty Cricket

    I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate having to follow through on a threat. HATE. But you have to. Follow through. But ugh, sometimes it’s just a big fucking PAIN.

    And I can tell you exactly what’s wrong with Daisy, having diagnosed my own children: she is two. There is nothing to be done but wait until she’s over it. She will DEFINITELY get over it.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/00187085163513906952 Jo

    i agree to chatty cricket! … but you know what starts to work for us with tantrums? smile. not crazy ‘I am going to F you up’ smile, but ‘i am imagining I am laying on a resort beach getting an amazing massage’ sort of smile ~ even if it doesn’t calm them down, it does muck with their heads that they are not getting the usual ‘of for F-sake’ response, and possibly their behaviour will change because your response has changed. Failing that, I recommend locking yourself in the laundry with a tub of icecream :D :D good luck!

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/13947330920627665175 Bethwyn

    Oh man, I’m so sorry your day went to complete shit. That sucks. And 2yo’s suck. The end.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/11937511046069347576 edenland

    I fucking love you, Beth Macdonald.

    Happy fucken Fathers Day Rob. You’ll never forget that one!

    xx

  • Whitney Sigler

    I just love you. The sleep terrors, understand completely. Our oldest 25. He had then from 1 1/2 until 18 regularly but the poor boy was a bed wetter also. He seamed to just go off somewhere but was terified. Frustration on our part,he still has one every so often. Your a better “modern” mom then me. Cause I don’t think I would have handled the tantrums as well. Lol.