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this isn’t aimed it’s just funny #fyp #foryou #stress #ihatemybf
@maria.ramsay this isn’t aimed it’s just funny #fyp #foryou #stress #ihatemybf
Tag: stress
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@maria.ramsay this isn’t aimed it’s just funny #fyp #foryou #stress #ihatemybf …
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A man’s Maternity Leave ignorance – a belated apology
A man’s Maternity Leave ignorance – a belated apology
My wife’s had 3 maternity leaves. All of which I’ve been in work fulltime getting home for 6pm to spend an hour doing the glory bits. I’m not so conceited that I didn’t realise it was a tough gig, but I would rebuff any bemoaning from Mrs Secret Dad Lad with ‘being at work isn’t exactly a f**king holiday’. Turns out, comparatively, it is.
During lockdown my wife’s more demanding job has meant she’s had to basically continue to work fulltime, albeit remotely. This has meant that I’ve had my own ‘Paternity Leave’ looking after our kids (Josephine 5, Ernie 3 and Walt 1) whilst their Mum works away in the loft. Here’s a chronicle of a typical day:
- After helping with breakfast, Wife exits stage left.
- J/E ask for a biscuit
- Catch W climbing in washing machine whilst explaining to the others that biscuits are not part of breakfast.
- Put Netflix on.
- J sends E to ask for a biscuit.
- Break up fight over who has the remote.
- Put most guilty one on naughty step.
- Catch W drinking from dog’s water bowl.
- Read him a book he hates.
- Forget one is on naughty step, they wander back to watch Netflix.
- J/E ask for biscuit. We negotiate. They get raisins.
- Decide they’ve watched too much Netflix, get crafts out.
- W does a massive shit, spend 10 minutes fighting him to allow me the pleasure of wiping his arse.
- Come back to crafts, but they’ve left and are back watching Netflix.
- Clear up crafts, wishing whoever created slime a slow, gruesome death.
- Give them early lunch because they’re pissing me off.
- They hate my lunch. Give them crisps.
- Put them in garden.
- I tell E off for purposely lobbing balls into next door’s garden, meanwhile J tries to force W to play with her and he’s like ‘nah’ and bites her.
- They’re all f**king crying.
- We go inside.
- I put on a film for big two, take up tired Mr bitey for his nap.
- I hide for a bit.
- They find me like they’re sniffer dogs and I’m selling pills at a festival.
- They ask for a biscuit. I give them several just so they’ll f**k off.
- They scream ‘Daddy we’re bored of this film!’ repeatedly and very loudly.
- I run in and shout at them through gritted teeth that they’re going to wake their little brother up.
- Little brother wakes up and starts crying.
- Resist temptation to demonstrate how much I currently despise my two eldest children and go get W up.
- The next 3 hours is a complete f**king parenting shitshow.
- Mummy comes down from the loft and they turn into golden children.
And, it’s pretty much that everyday. Relentless doesn’t cover it. I may have it slightly tougher in one sense during lockdown as there’s less options to escape. But I also don’t have a newborn hanging off my tit, sterilization faff to worry about and an expectation from wider society that it should all come naturally to me. Plus, if the shit really does hit the fan, I have another parent available upstairs who could help me out.
What I’m getting at is all you maternity leave survivors, fair f**king play. I’ve experienced a small amount of what you endure(d) and I’m flagging. We love our kids, but when they’re young looking after them can be ferocious. So, to my wife especially, I apologise for taking your daily efforts in rearing our kids so magnificently for granted. I’ve had a big taste of humble pie. Sorry it’s taken so long.
Also, if you can give me access to the magical housework fairy you must have employed during your maternity leave – that would be great 👌🧚♀️
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Don’t Marry A Care Assistant
Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They sleep all day while you work and work all night while you sleep. Or, their 0500 alarm disturbs your sleep and then they come home too tired to cook dinner. Don’t marry a Health care assistant.
They walk in the door mentally exhausted and sometimes forget to even say hello. Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They run out of patience and snap at the slightest question or demand. Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They constantly complain about germs or access for people in public. It can be embarrassing.
Don’t marry a Health care assistant. Their stories are not dinner-at-your-moms appropriate. Don’t marry a Health care assistant. Your complaints of a sore throat will hardly be heard. Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They spend so much of their energy on their patients that they have nothing left to give to you when their shift ends.
Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They don’t make you a priority when they agree to work on their days off Don’t marry a Health care assistant.
They’re so emotionally unstable that sometimes they come home and just cry for no reason. Don’t marry a Health care assistant. They are constantly in crisis about where their life is going. Don’t marry a Health care assistant.
Marry a Heath care assistant. They are brave enough to take on any challenge. Marry a Heath care assistant. They get up every day to put others first. Marry a Health care assistant. They have the best gut instincts to know when something is wrong.
Marry a Health care assistant. They have felt with depths of their hearts unknown to most people. Marry a Health care assistant. They’re always ready to help someone in need. Marry a Health care assistant. They see things that others don’t. Marry a Health care assistant. They give their all and utilize every talent they have. Marry a Health care assistant. They know what it means to sacrifice. Marry a Health care assistant. They were brave enough to embrace a duty that never sleeps.
Marry a Health care assistant. They have learned to adjust without complaining. Marry a Health care assistant. They are strong enough to hold back tears until they are alone. Marry a Health care assistant. They never settle for less than they are capable of. Marry a Health care assistant. They succeed in times of unknown.
Marry a Health care assistant. They know the value of life. Marry a Health care assistant. They are the best comforters. Marry a Health care assistant. They know time is precious. Marry a Health care assistant. Those quiet moments truly are sacred. Marry a Health care assistant. Because if you have the chance to marry a Health care assistant, that means they are trusting you to help them carry a beautiful burden that you will never understand. Marry a Health care assistant.
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Sorry I’m Just Tapped Out
“Sorry, I’m just tapped out.”
I said this to one of my kids’ teachers this morning as she requested a private zoom with my child and I.
At the same time as this, I had two other kids hopping on their google meets, I had to pull my oldest from her work to hold the baby, the kids’ Dad had a call just starting, and as I struggled with my laptop to even find which Godforsaken link I needed to even click, I was ready to crumble.
The laptop wouldn’t connect to the internet. The baby was fussing. My oldest was frustrated I had to pull her from what she was in the middle of. I had noise coming from each room with all the kids trying to, you know, “school”, and it took every fiber of my being not to throw the laptop off the table.
I’m one person trying to juggle the schedule for 5 kids and everyday I fluctuate between moments of having it together and seriously, well … losing it.
This isn’t normal.
Any of it.
Trying to function in the “unfunctionable.”
That’s the best way to explain all of this: trying to function in the unfunctionable.
As the teacher immediately noticed my temperament and disposition, she was kind and started by sympathizing to all I’m attempting to run here. When she asked about a couple lower scores on my daughter’s reading comprehension quizzes, whom by the way throughout the score year has had all high marks, I immediately let go.
“This is not an environment conducive for learning. It’s just not. My children have a loving and safe home, but no, it’s not a school. To be honest, most days it’s a shit show. There isn’t much peace and quiet through the day, and when one is trying to focus on some level of the house or in a certain room, you can hear another zoom call or herd of cattle coming through in another. So no, she’s not getting to concentrate nor having things able to completely sink in.”
And you know what? It felt so good to say that.
I wanted to scream it.
I wanted to cry while sharing that.
I wanted to pound my fists on the table after I got it all out.But I found some last ounce of strength to hold some amount of composure conveying my exhausting frustration.
This all will be over soon. Right?
Or at least I keep telling myself.
This just isn’t normal.
Any of it.
We’re not supposed to be able to turn to our manuals of “living through a global pandemic and total, utter chaos” and just snap our fingers and handle this all with grace.
It’s impossible.
So for those who are looking for their white flags to raise and shake ferociously high in the air, you’re not alone.
It’s okay to not love this time and feel okay or good about it in every hour of every day.
I can’t think about tomorrow or the next day or how I’m going to get through next week. I’m literally taking it one day at a time and focusing on surviving the next hour.
That’s IT.
This is no longer survival of the fittest.
It’s survival of those willing to adapt to the most abnormal time of our lives.
If you’re reading this and asking yourself how you can do it, well … good news is, you already are.
It may not always be pretty, but you’re doing it.
It’s suffice to say that my little breakdown to one of my kids’ teachers this morning was so well received and so appreciated on her end.
Here’s to getting one more hour in the books, my Friends.
There’s crumbs on my counter.
The dishes need done.
The laundry needs switched.
The dog needs to go out.
The baby needs fed.
A kid needs help on their work.
There’s massive bags under my eyes as I haven’t slept in 12 years.
I wore this outfit yesterday and to bed and today which is now tomorrow.Here we go.
We’re freaking rockstars … every single one of us.
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You Can Be A Strong Woman And Still Cry
Today, I’m tired. I’ve run out of steam.
So I wanted to share these reminders for anyone else that is pretty shattered with it all too.You can be a strong woman, and still cry.
You can be a wonderful mum, yet still find days hard.
You can be incredibly happy, but still feel sadness.
You can be grateful, but still wish things were different.
You can doubt yourself, but still be a voice of confidence to others.
You can see your flaws, but still be perfect in someone else’s eyes.
You can love morning cuddles with your kids, but still wish for more sleep.
You can feel like you’ve done nothing all day, but to your kids you’re everything.
You can be scared, but still be fearless.
You can be tough, but still be gentle.
You can just do you, and that will always be enough.🧡💛💚💙
credit to the amazing thenofiltermum
www.instagram.com/thenofiltermum -
The System Is Failing Us All
Couldn’t be more frustrated.
The system is failing us all.
High pressures everywhere and I just want to let my guard down and be taken care of but I have to constantly exhaustively advocate for myself with conditions they don’t understand.
Checking in at hosp as an emergency this morning after a burn incident (don’t ask!) on my way to The Christie’s for a Short Synacthen Test (for my Addison’s disease)…. The test prep and burn sent my body into a shock it couldn’t effectively respond to. Without natural cortisol, I cannot respond and without my emergency needle which should always be with me but on this exception it wasn’t- it becomes a 1 hour time slot to flood my body with the synthetic version in a resus unit under supervision.
Sadly, I kept being given treatments which are unecessary and then red tape was restricting those few who did take the time and have the inclination to listen; they couldn’t provide the necessary care, but couldn’t act accordingly either and I kept repeating my medical needs in the hope someone would hear me.
She who thinks I’m a ‘bitch’ because I gently tried to explain that the doctor has prescribed extremely high doses of medications I need to stay alive, but a dose which is too high such as this will have expensive and detrimental consequences tomorrow….
To try to keep explaining that after having hundreds of mg of the stress hormone ‘Cortisol’ flooded through your veins for 12 + hours is really difficult because I’m emotional and lacking mental clarity….. I tried to explain through tearful eyes and she told me to shut up and take my meds as she has other patients to see, so I either take the overdose or nothing.
Let me be clear;
The overdose of this stress hormone will add up to the other doses and have a horrific, heavy effect on my mood for days to come.
In addition to the dark cloud it takes me hostage in, it also causes damage to my connective tissues.
Damage which means I’ll dislocate so much more for the next few days and therefore damage my joints for weeks to come- unless it’s my spine in which case, it’s forever.
With EDS, I cannot take this risk. I must find a balance.
The nurse who now refuses to treat me believed that I should either take ‘all’ and damage my connective tissues in addition to breaking the adrenal protocol and leading to a longer admission time and multiple MCAS reactions- one risk of which is anaphylaxis.
Or
‘Nothing’…. I’m here because I had an adrenal crisis. It becomes life threatening very fast and resus took great care of me today to stabilise this, but, since then I should have had my levels checked regularly to ensure I’m stabilised .
No bloods or checks have been taken.
I should have lesser doses to wean my body down until discharge tomorrow.
This hasn’t happened.
But the nurse? She doesn’t care, because ‘she knows already’ and ‘doesn’t want to anger the doctor by querying his prescription’…. so she instead gets angry with me loudly and humiliates me loudly on a ward.
I’m so tired of advocating.
I am so so tired of explaining.
Education is the only answer.
I can hear the docs discussing it outside loudly misunderstanding and making assumptions which are incorrect…. and I wish they’d take a moment to talk to me so that we can clear it up- save them time, money and trouble…. and save my body and sanity.
I don’t know how much sense this makes. I’m fatigued and medicated.
I just needed to share my frustrations so I don’t sit crying in a corner bed on the ward like the annoying ‘anxious’ patient it’s all too convenient to tarnish me as.
– Addisons Disease & Adrenal Crisis protocol.
-Continued, clear communication & hand overs… (probably less stress & patient pressures required for this one. Please don’t ever mistake me as an NHS basher. I adore the service and the people in it…. but I despise the pressures they’re under and the consequences this has on patient care… and I despise policies which risk lives).
I look around my ward at the majority elderly patients and I wonder who would listen to them if they needed to stand their ground as I have?
Who would dismiss them as ‘deluded’ and ‘old’ .
Who would keep them safe or know otherwise.
I’m weary as hell but I’m determined to be the change I wish to see on any and every level within my power.
They had an incidental finding in my blood and have concerns about my liver. To be fair, it’s an organ which isn’t had much attention so it’s probably it’s turn.
Tomorrow, I’ll have a scan and know more.
If you’ve made it this far through my rant/ offload, then thank you.
And thanks also to Gwen, Family & D today for your help
I’m just done in today. I’ve had enough.
❤️
www.theedsfoundation.org.uk
#EhlersDanlos #AddisonsDisease #AdrenalCrisis #EducationHealsIgnorance
#YouCantEducateAnUnwillingStudent
Credit https://www.facebook.com/SavingSamantha/
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Here’s Why Stay At Home Mums Can Be Depressed
I hear so many people asking why any stay at home mom would be depressed. I mean, we get to stay home with our children, why would we be depressed??
We are depressed because it’s absolutely exhausting working your ass off for your family, but it not meaning anything because we don’t make money.
It’s exhausting making a daily sacrifice to put others needs before your own. And it not meaning anything because you don’t “help” financially.
It’s exhausting being a maid, a teacher, a chef, a nurse, a mentor, and people don’t care because you don’t make money.
Our very existence doesn’t count as a real contribution to some, because we don’t earn money.
So, how would you feel. If you worked 24/7….Literally. And got zero acknowledgement from society because you don’t earn an income?! And you were constantly asked when you’re gonna get a job and what you do all day.
Someone’s worth should not be defined by the amount of money they make. My contribution is just as important as any working person. And guess what?! At the end of your work day, you get to clock out, go home and relax. I never get to clock out of my “job”. I wouldn’t change my job for the world
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I’m Just Tired Mummy
Today as soon as I picked my five year old up from kindergarten, I could tell she was in, what I like to call, one of her “moods”. She was crying over everything, not being herself, and acting so uptight. My immediate reaction was to get annoyed. And say “you’re almost six, why are you acting like this?!”
It wasn’t until a few hours of her acting like this, that she looked at me with tears in her eyes, and I said “are you just having a draining day?” She hugged me and said “I’m just tired mommy.” And that when I realized, I totally forgot what I always preach about to my kids. Your mental health being your top priority.
So, I drew her a lavender bubble bath, gave her a face mask, and lit some candles while she read her books and sipped on her apple juice.
After the bath, she was a new kid. The kid I usually know. She was happy, had more energy, and was handling things better.
I think we all forgot that even for kids, life gets too much sometimes. And even they need a break from it all.
Today taught me that I need to be a more understanding parent, as I too go through so much and need a nice bath to myself to escape it all. It doesn’t matter the age. We all need that.
❤️
Credit Caitlinfladager
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Dear Education System This Is What Your Doing To Our Children
Dear Education System,
This is what you are doing to our children. My 5 year old is made to feel bad that he is a regular boy.
He isn’t always good at sitting still. He loves to bounce and talk to friends. He loves to learn by doing. He’s a typical boy who could play outside all day and not get tired.
Sadly you take that away more and more each year. You’re dead set on increasing testing numbers by forcing the “child” out of our kids. At much younger ages they are becoming zombies.
Sit, be still, learn this earlier, test well or we will be forced to have an intervention but don’t expect our help quickly because the red tape takes months. Talk too much during P.E. and you lose it. Don’t turn your homework in and sit silently at lunch while you complete the assignment.
If he cannot be silent and still my child is a distraction. If you cannot be silent and still you will be punished. If you cannot be silent and still we will take away the time you do have to NOT be silent and still.
When will you wake up and realize you are detrimentally hurting our children by no longer allowing them to just be children??
Because personally, I’m tired of holding my baby while he cries thinking he’s failing as a kindergartner.
Credit https://www.facebook.com/fourboysonequeen
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I Sucked Ass At Being A Mum Today
I sucked ass at being a mom today. Some days, I feel like I’m not doing a good job at this mom thing. Because it’s so fucking hard. I know, I know, it’s always worth it, and I love my kids. But man, when did it get so hard?
Today I yelled too much at them, they watched too much tv, I fed them pasta, which they glazed over, picking out most of the nutrients.
I yelled at them to stop yelling (funny huh?), I told my son to stop calling his sister “poopy head” at least thirty times today. Something I never thought I would be doing.
As I write this caption, I am sitting on my bedroom floor. Hiding. Trying to get a moment of silence. It’s so hard some days. And I know I’m not alone.
There’s no “silver lining” to this post.
Being a mom is fucking hard.
That’s all.
Everyday, I tell myself “tomorrow! Tomorrow will be the day I don’t yell. Tomorrow will be the day I talk calmly all day to them. Tomorrow will be the day they won’t fight with each other. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better. Easier.”
And whenever I lay them down to bed at night, I look at those beautiful souls I created and think “how could I ever be so mad at them?” It’s a routine I have had for the past few years now.
Being a mom is fucking hard. And I suck at it a lot of the time. But that’s okay, because I’m trying my best to raise good, kind, decent, loving human beings, in a world so cold.
There’s no way that’s going to be easy.
Keep going mama, we got this. Even if we fucking suck some times.
Instagram – Caitlinfladager