I spanked my child today. This is something I have always swore I would not do, I have terrible memories of being spanked - of being chased and spanked by my step-father - and never, ever, EVER want to inflict that kind of pain and humiliation on my children. And yet, today I spanked my son... suffice it to say the punishment did not fit the crime. In fact my memory of the entire incident is a little fuzzy - and it only happened half an hour ago.
The story doesn't really need re-telling, the feeling of wanting to vomit, of feeling shaken to the bone is enough for me. I never want to feel like this again - and I never, ever, EVER want my child to look at me again with fear in his eyes. I realise now that my behaviour lately has been leading me up to this. I have been alternatively cocky about my amazing mothering abilities and completely insecure about them. So insecure that I have been hiding and internalising my frustrations, holding in instead of letting out for fear of being seen as less than wonderful. Meanwhile I have done nothing to actually deal with these feelings, I go on about the wonders and virtues of mantras and mindfulness - but as a total hypocrite.
A friend brought up the possibility of prenatal depression and I don't think she is far off the mark. My ability to live in denial is really strong and I keep trying to hide what I am going through from everyone, including my husband, just like I always have. So it might be depression, it might be that I am just not dealing well with all the things I have piled on my plate and need to work through all of them, it could be that I am not getting enough sleep, or some nutrient, or eating often enough, or, most likely, it could be some combination of all those things.
We have been busy, off the charts really, and while I love it, it has been really really draining. It has left me unable or unwilling to plan social stuff through the weeks with Sebastian's friends and I am really really starting to miss those playdates. But they take so much planning and it is always a little touch and go right up to the last moment as to whether or not they will actually happen, the frustration of it all made it a simpler option to just stay home or do things just the two of us. And then there is the whole living in a new neighbourhood, meeting new people deal I am working through right now. I hate it. I miss our old friends and old activities. I miss the effortlessness of going to an organised playdate. I miss knowing people and people knowing me.
I also miss feeling rested and feeling sane.