Feeling like you have failed at parenthood, even if only for one day, is the worst feeling. Especially when you feel like having a night out, in the middle of the week, and it interferes how you function the next day with your children. And when you notice they are happening more frequently the guilt really begins to set in.
I know because this was me a couple of nights ago. My husband and I decided that we needed a night out. We were responsible and called a cab to pick us up from our home since we knew that we would be drinking.
I like to gamble and so does my husband…just not quite as much as I do. I always tell him he drinks like I gamble. Once we start, we can’t stop.
We were having so much fun and really not paying much attention to the time. I swear one minute it was 6pm and the next it was 3am.
3AM! I get up to get my kids ready for the school run at 6:30!
Needless to say preschool that day was crossed off the list but I did get my son to elementary school with the help of my teenager. I didn’t even hear the alarm at 6:30. I woke at 7:15 and without even getting out of bed, called my oldest on his cell phone and told him to get his brother ready and not to worry about getting the other two ready as they would be staying home today.
My husband, of course, slept through the whole thing.
I turned on a movie for the girls and then crawled back in bed and back to sleep. Luckily after the movie was over my 4 year old then turned on the Xbox so they could both play.
They would come in from time to time asking if they could have this or that to eat in which I woke and mumbled, “yeah, go ahead, have whatever you want to eat” as long as I didn’t have to get up and fix it, I didn’t care.
I didn’t care…
I think I finally came out of my sleeping fog around 11:30am. Hubby still snoring loudly beside me. I peeled myself from our bed, reached in the cabinet for the ibuprofen, and downed three of them with an entire glass of water. I laid back down just long enough for them to kick in.
Then I went and got some lunch.
I was cranky and depressed and realized that there was a whole list of things that needed to be done between the time I had to pick my son up and bedtime.
I just kept asking myself “why do I do this to myself?…When will I learn my lesson”.
Even today, as I write this post, I am still feeling the effects of a night of partying and a day of neglecting my kids. Sure, they were fed and in no harm, but their mother wasn’t present like she should have been. And the father, well they are use to him not being present since he works so much.
And the guilt sets in…until the next time.