Blogger Constance Hall describes a hectic night at her house and every mom can relate
We’ve all been there. Those awful evenings where each kid has some kind of bug up their butt, your husband is working late, the house is a wreck, dinner simply isn’t happening and all you want to do is hit the “pause” button, but there’s literally no such thing. So you go and go and go until you collapse, unable to do a single other task. That reality is captured perfectly in a recent post from blogger Constance Hall. Spoiler alert: it ends with drinking wine in a closet.
Like I said; reality.
Constance Hall is well-known to moms for her incredibly honest takes on all things marriage and motherhood. She’s written viral posts about sex as a parent, kids in restaurants, and the importance of self-care for moms, among many other topics. This time, she takes to Facebook to recount a difficult evening caring for her four children. Her husband was working late, she was tired and the kids were all in various states of cranky or disobedient. It’s the kind of night where a mom has to truly dig deep to stay sane and not fly off the handle.
She starts off by setting the scene. And a rather stressful scene it is. Hall writes, “I couldn’t deal with yesterday. The twins are sick, again. An alarm goes off in their mouths when they are not on top of me. They had been lying on me all day. The house is a bomb. Billie-Violet needed help with her home work. Dinner needed to be cooked. Today’s lunches needed to be made. It’s 8pm and Bill is still working.”
I don’t know about ya’ll, but I’m practically breaking out in hives just reading that. Mostly because minus two kids, I’ve been there. And as any mom knows, it’s purely the worst.
She continues, explaining why this night is tougher than most. “My period is due and I want to throttle something.
I was so completely overwhelmed by the work load in front of me. Even more so by the fact that once it’s done it all starts again tomorrow.”
Is it just me, or are periods worse post-kid and/or in your 30s? The days before my period is due, I definitely lack my usual reserve of patience and coping skills, and it sounds as though Hall is the same way. If Aunt Flo is on the horizon AND my kids are being extra big assholes? All bets are off. I could lose it at any moment. And yes, knowing that even if you finish everything on your to-do list, big whoop — the clock starts anew in the morning. Some days, it’s just too much to bear.
She describes not wanting to make dinner because of all the dishes she’d have to wash to even start, but bit the bullet and got it done. Frying up the fish while she “just let the twins scream.” Ugh. I can both smell the fish and hear the screaming. I badly want to hand this woman a big bottle of wine.
And of course, it’s not just her twins melting down. It’s everyone. “I asked Billie to do her homework, she ignored me, I ask Arlo to get dressed, he ignored me, I offer the twins some dinner, they scream, I ask Arlo to eat his dinner, he said no, Billie-Violet is the only one who ate the $40 of fucking fish I bought.”
Because of course she is. The more expensive and elaborate the dinner, the more your kids will basically tell you to stuff that dinner up your ass sideways. Sigh.
Moving on. Now, two of the kids are fighting over a toy, the toddler got into a messy chocolate cookie — after her bath, of course. One of the kids found his bedtime bottle, well in advance of bedtime. Hall panics as, “without that I have nothing to bribe him into bed with, not that he’ll go anyway because they both had late naps.”
By now, she’s straight up losing it.
“All 4 kids are officially screaming, well Billie-Violet has too much pride to scream so she is chanting about how crap this family is, Billie still hasn’t done her homework or had a bath and my house is messier then it’s ever been. I need to rock in the corner.” Um, I’m rocking in the corner for her. And it gets a little worse before it gets better. Her husband Bill comes home, on his phone, motioning for everyone to be quiet because he’s on a work call.
This is where Hall dissolves into tears and locks herself into a closet. Literally. But through those tears, she found a forgotten bottle of wine on the shelf. And wasted no time at all. “I had no glass and was not risking re-entering the walking dead scene, so I drank it from the bottle, 1 third of the bottle down and the sound of chaos finally drowned out.”
Hell yes. Get it, girl.
She wraps up saying, “Nobody dared to come into see this pre-menstrual sobbing animal who’s actually rocking out, half drunk, trying on dresses listening to iTunes.”
That sounds heavenly after the night she endured, and it’s wonderful that she took the time to write about it so the rest of us can understand that we’re not alone. So many moms have these nights where we basically give up and let our family fend for themselves. Because otherwise, they might see a side of us we’d rather they not. It’s a great mom move knowing when to walk away. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re simply recognizing that shit is not going well at the moment and one more second could put you off the deep end. It’s best for everyone, really.
Kudos to Constance Hall for making us all feel like being an overwhelmed wreck with screaming kids and a messy house is something deserving of closet wine. And a god damn break.