:: time out for mummy

a moment of silence

I took myself to ‘time out’. Well. I basically left the park, took the keys and locked myself in the car. Hubby was with the kids of course, but I had that sinking feeling of “I am going to seriously lose it” , and realised I had to escape.

When last year I came to breaking point, I realised how quickly my anxiety and depression can build if I don’t tackle it head on. I realised that there are times I can’t cope , can’t just ignore it, and just simply, need to get away. Kind of realising the hard way, I did in fact realise.


Between the constant three-year-old-whining that just does not seem to end (and I mean constant!), the defiant eighteen-month-old who lately only seems to say “Mumma“, and the need to always be the referee of sharing issues, hitting issues and “that’s mine”, that just does not seem to end, yesterday was just that day when I felt like I had enough.

And so I left.

And for a whole hour and a half, I sat in the car, looked out the window and just stared. Because I probably just needed the silence. A dull nothing.

I did. It was perfect.

We drove home within that time and I managed to stay in my hypnotic state of silence by staring out that window and tuning out to the words in the back. I then stayed in the car for a little longer while the noise moved inside. It was then that I shed a tear of sadness for actually feeling the need to escape while not being able to ignore the “Where’s Mumma?” coming from inside.

I then got a knock on my window.

And it shifted. Because that little girls face at the window with a knock brought me back. The tear kind of moved from sadness, to helplessness, to joy. We had a cuddle, we played a game, she collected the coins that were gathered in my door handle, and I looked at her and said to myself “I love you so… “.

Do you ever have to ‘escape’ and take yourself away from a situation? How do you find your silence? 

{photo found here}

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  • Marina

    My bath – I love my bath. It’s my sanity savour. When they were younger they’d often join me, but knew if mummy had her eyes closed – it was quiet time. It always had a calming effect on them too.