My lowest point as a parent

For the first time, I lost my cool with my child. I swore at her. Directly at her. Out of anger, frustration, exhaustion. And not even under my breath.

From the moment the words came out of my mouth [and after I got, 100% correctly, admonished by Megan for it] I felt horrible about what I’d done. I’ve never felt more guilty, more awful, about anything I’ve said to another human being. To make it worse, it came not half-an-hour before I was going out of town for a week, so I would have to wait six days before I could hold her in my arms, cuddle her and make it up to her.

It was 3.50am on a Monday. Alice was sick with a stuffy nose [yes, she was sick and I still lost my s**t. Nice, right?] and had not slept well at all. She’d woken up at least once an hour, every hour, and I hadn’t slept since 11pm. I was at the end of my usually long tether. And I lost my cool.

I had just taken Alice and put her into bed with Megan in the hope that she would go to sleep and that I could get ready to leave for the airport. But she didn’t. She sat bolt upright, and showed complete disinterest in sleeping. That’s when the words came out. I was just so desperate for her — and for Megan — to get some sleep. Admittedly, I also wanted just a little respite from what had been a nightmare of a night. But it’s no excuse. Not in the slightest.

In that immediate guilt I picked her up right away, held her in my arms her and jumped into the spare bed in her room with her. I tickled her tummy and kissed her what felt like a thousand times. I just wanted her to know that I loved her, and that I had messed up.

It’s definitely the lowest point for me as a dad. And it’s something I won’t allow myself to do again.