I woke up early. I thought I’d get up, grab an espresso, and have some me-time. I got up, showered, and headed downstairs for a relaxing morning. As I sat down, I heard Daisy whinging in bed. Not wanting to leave her alone, I go to her, but she doesn’t want me. “Go away, I don’t want you!” she snaps at me, so I walk away. I got back downstairs and empty the dishwasher with the mindset that I’ve already been interrupted from having a relaxing morning anyway. I think to myself, the kids are going to be up soon anyway and I’ll need to go back upstairs and get them dressed, teeth brushed, and get them ready for nursery.
After emptying the dishwasher I come upstairs to get the kids ready. Daisy is now in our bed and my wife is getting ready in the bathroom. I try to cuddle her in bed and as I get close she says to me “I don’t want cuddles!” in an aggressive way. I turn to my other daughter Pippa and ask if she wants to brush her teeth, she declines in a tired kind of way. Nobody wants me here, why did I come up? I think to myself. I convince Pippa that if she brushes her teeth and gets dressed then she can come downstairs to have breakfast with Mummy. This does the trick, this is the prize they both want, more time with Mummy. I get them both dressed, teeth brushed, all relatively successfully. No dramas getting them dressed or teeth brushed because they know they’ve got Mummy to look forward to. But I already feel hurt, stressed, angry, resentful. My children don’t give a shit about me, they just want their Mother and despite my best efforts to care for them, they don’t want me.
I try to just take on some chores by putting some washing away. At least in this regard, I can be successful and not be rejected by the clothes I’m folding. Mummy comes into the room to do her makeup and the kids follow. Seeing what I’m doing they ask to ‘help’. I let them, but their definition of help is rather different from mine. They start flinging my nicely folded clothes around and I feel my stress rising. Mummy leaves to go downstairs and both kids immediately leave, despite asking to help do the washing. As they leave they say “leave the rest of that for Daddy” in a light-hearted way. We don’t have to pretend to want to help Daddy anymore, we’ve got the real prize of Mummy so fuck him.
I finish the washing on my own. I should be thankful that I got to finish it in peace, but I’m not. I feel like the children want me to do things for them unless Mummy is available. In which case they would take Mummy over Daddy every single time.
I come downstairs after finishing the washing and the girls are eating breakfast. A flash of anger passes over me ‘I thought I’d told her not to do the kid’s breakfast?’ I try to let it go, but I’m annoyed. It’s not a chore, it’s a way for me to provide for the children and a way for them to be grateful for me. I want to be the provider of things for the children too so that they grow to value me.
‘You’re stressed and angry, you need some exercise, you need some breakfast’ I think to myself, trying to calm down. I get my breakfast and sit down, immediately Pippa says;
“What are you having for breakfast Daddy?” Pippa says to me.
“Weetabix with blueberries,” I say, trying to focus on my breakfast.
“That’s a funny breakfast,” she says, breaking into laughter.
How delightful. My children are now attacking my choice of breakfast as well. A flash of anger passes over me. She’s only joking around, it’s harmless, but it hurts. I feel like I’m being attacked from all angles. I move seats on the table to move closer to my other daughter so I can eat my breakfast without being laughed at.
I turn my attention to Daisy. She looks sad and she’s not eating her breakfast. I get up and go around to her and give her a big cuddle, a kiss and tell her I love her. I try to comfort her in her sadness. She has a wry smile on her face, I’ve made her feel better and I feel glad about that. But she’s still not eating her breakfast.
“What’s the problem Daisy? Why are you not eating your breakfast” I ask her.
“I’m sad,” she says, looking down with a sulk on her face.
“Why are you sad Daisy?” I ask compassionately.
“I don’t want Mummy to go to work”
Here lies the root of the issue. Both kids want more time with Mummy, but Mummy has a job and cannot give them what they want. They’re stuck with Daddy and despite all my best efforts, I’m not the one they want.
I turn my attention back to Pippa now and notice her hair not tied up. She likes to have her hair tied up so I get a hairband and offer to tie her hair up. I start doing it and in a defensive angry way she says, “no I want Mummy to do it”.
This hurts.
I try again to contain my feelings, but I fail. Pippa asks me for some toast and I snap at her saying “Go ask Mummy!”. With Daisy still upset and not eating, I resign to the fact that she is not going to eat her cereal. I try to pour it away, but the bin lid pops down as I’m pouring it in. Milk and cereal spill all over the bin and at this point I’m enraged.
Despite my efforts to keep my feelings of hurt contained, I fail. I throw the plastic bowl across the kitchen into the sink. Milk splashes on the windows and my wife shouts at me; “what the hell are you doing?!?”
“Fuck you all!” I bark as I storm out.
I go for a walk.
…
I think about myself, about how I feel, and why I feel the way I do. I’m angry, resentful, jealous. I love my children, but they don’t want me. They don’t appreciate me. I feel unloved. I need an outlet for my feelings. Time, space, exercise. I know these are the things that will help me to calm down.
I get back from my walk and try to talk with my wife. We’re both angry though and she has to go to work. She leaves for work and I take the kids to the nursery. To my surprise, they seem in high spirits, laughing and giggling the whole way there. It cheers me up that they are ok and that we have a nice walk to nursery.
Later that day I thought about the events of the morning and came up with three key learnings that can help me manage my anger more effectively.
1. Open up about how things make you feel
I’ve started telling my children when they do things that upset me. Instead of bottling up, I tell them, “that hurts Daddy’s feelings”. They get it, they’re smarter than I give them credit for. 90% of the time when I tell them how something hurts me, they come and give me a cuddle, say sorry, and generally understand.
No one in my family is a mind-reader. If something upsets me, it’s my responsibility to open up about it and explain how someone else’s actions make me feel. Keeping my feelings contained is only going to result in an angry outburst at some point in the future. I owe it to my family to be honest so that I don’t upset them with any outbursts.
2. Don’t take little things for granted
In my experience, it’s never huge momentous events that cause us to lose control, but a series of small events that all add up. These can have a profound effect, with each small event chipping away at you causing you to be in a constant state of elevated anxiety. Imagine you have a power meter that is your tolerance for attacks, each small hit might only reduce your power by 1%, but over time you would be left with zero. Don’t take each little dig for granted, they can add up to something big. Beware of death by a thousand cuts.
3. Get support
Being a parent is hard. You need someone in your corner that you can turn to for support when you need it. My wife is a great teammate, but in this instance, I felt let down. It’s not healthy for one parent to be the superhero the kids adore and the other to be the ‘bad one’ who makes them behave.
You need to be able to back each other up when the children behave in a way that upsets one of you. The kids should show both equal respect and love, just as we show each of our children equal love and respect.
I don’t want my wife to come on her white horse to save the day. I want her to support me to show the kids that Daddy is good at caring for them too.
…
In Closing
That morning, I lost my way and let my anger get the better of me. I messed up and let my family down.
I appreciate the errors of my ways. I apologised to my family. I can learn from this and do better next time. I can continue to improve my own mental health and the harmony of my family.
My biggest learning from this is to talk about your feelings, regularly and often. No good comes from bottling up and trying to soldier on.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
You Might Also Like These From The Good Men Project
Compliments Men Want to Hear More Often | Relationships Aren’t Easy, But They’re Worth It | The One Thing Men Want More Than Sex | ..A Man’s Kiss Tells You Everything |
Join The Good Men Project as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—
Photo credit: Armin Lotfi on Unsplash