Last night, I received a text from a close friend, “I can’t stand anything or anyone right now.” Although we don’t connect frequently, we reach out when the stress of parenting becomes unbearable. She has a 5-year-old and a 9-month-old.
Her message continued, “Is it terrible that I fantasize about giving my kids away? The oldest never stops whining, and the youngest won’t stop crying. I might need to check myself into a facility.”
I replied, “Absolutely. You’re a bad parent, and guess what? I’m the driver of the bad-parent bus. Honestly, do you want to be on a good-parent bus with someone who never has a bad word to say about their kids?”
While her husband was settled in front of the TV with their eldest, the baby was in the crib, wailing. I urged her, “Go scream into a pillow. Seriously, step outside and lie on the sidewalk to stare at the sky. You deserve it. Have a drink—trust me, you’ve earned that.”
Texting began to feel trivial, so I called her instead. “Let it all out,” I encouraged.
“I’m just so fed up,” she exclaimed. “I know this phase will pass and things will get easier once the baby turns one, but I forgot how tough it can get. The whining from my oldest is relentless, and I feel like I’m failing them both.”
I listened intently, recalling my own experiences and realizing, “Wow, I’ve been there, and I think I’ve emerged on the other side.”
We shared a laugh as I mentioned my coping strategies: blogging, some self-deprecation, and, I confess, the occasional cigarette. It felt momentarily satisfying to indulge in something “bad” after the kids were asleep (though after four puffs, I’d feel nauseous anyway, so no fear of addiction here).
Reflecting on our conversation, I was struck by the fact that, for once, I was the one listening rather than venting (despite sometimes calculating the minutes until bedtime each morning). I even had that cliché realization: “It was so hard, but I can’t recall why. It’s all a blur.”
But then I remembered it vividly—those months filled with silent tears.
“I know things will improve soon,” she said.
All I could think was, “If by ‘soon’ you mean 18 months, then absolutely, it will get better.”
She’s about to enter the challenging phase that my youngest did, where I wondered, “Dear Lord, when will the whining end? Did I kick a puppy in a past life to deserve this?”
I understand the struggles are not over for me. However, the nonsensical toddler years of constant miscommunication have passed. During our conversation, I realized that perhaps I truly am on the other side of this exhausting journey.
Things do become (a little) more manageable, just as everyone told me a year ago. I told her, “It’s funny. You’re the closest to where I’ve been, so I totally get it. Please feel free to vent to me anytime. It’s still fresh in my memory.”
“I appreciate that. I will reach out. I know things will get better soon.”
Actually, it won’t. Haha.
Parenting is (somewhat) more manageable now, but it still feels like herding cats and repeating myself 17 times while negotiating with my stubborn (yet adorable) 2½-year-old.
I still roll my eyes and lose my temper when my 4-year-old throws a tantrum over “no.” Sleep is still elusive, especially over trivial things like a pacifier (toddler tears, not mine).
Yet, it is easier now.
I always hoped this day would come, but it struck me when I found myself in the role of listener rather than the one venting. It hit home when I heard someone else express frustration about their challenging baby, and I could genuinely respond, “I understand. I’ve been there. I’m not sure how I made it through, but you will too.”
The perspective is different from this vantage point. The future still seems overwhelming.
I think I’ll go enjoy a drink. I’ve certainly earned it.
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Summary
Parenting can be an exhausting journey filled with challenges, especially during the early years. However, with time, things tend to become more manageable. It’s important to share experiences and support each other through the difficult phases. Remember, you’re not alone in this, and it truly does get easier.