I am crap

Lately ive been feeling extremely tired, both emotionally and physically, from taking care of the 2 kids. Im out of play ideas, i snap for no rhyme or reason, everything and everyone irks me to no end and when i wake up in the morning sometimes i wish they would just disappear.
In short, im simply at the end of my tether. I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

I have friends who breeze through being a stay at home mum to 2 kids, without any help whatsoever. And they are still cheerful and patient and can find loads to do with their kids. They can play with them the whole day, take them out to the malls (ALONE!!) and never scream like a deranged banshee.

Me? Most days terelle watches tv till her eyes glaze over while i sit on the couch with the baby stuck on my breast, repeatedly yelling at her to switch it off. And yet when she finally does switch it off, i have no energy left to think of yet another inane game to entertain her with. And i do have a helper to do all the household chores and cook for us.
I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

I used to have tons of patience to spare, i could counsel and advise even the most obstinate and rebellious student. Now i find myself getting irritated by petty and inconsequential things.

Terelle whines for more cereals. I grudgingly fetch the bowl for her and wish she would shut up.

She asks to be piggy backed to the toilet to brush her teeth and whines when i deny her cos my tired, aching body just cant take piggy backing her 14kg frame for that short trip to the loo. I forcefully haul her to the sink and brush her teeth whilst she is crying pitifully, saying that ive hurt her arm. And i start to regret...why couldnt i have just piggy backed her and saved myself from this emotional outburst?

The baby is cranky and refuses to sleep, and screams to be rocked and nursed at the same time. I stubbornly sit on the sofa, vehemently stuff my breast into his mouth and yell at him to cooperate, while he gags and chokes because he is fighting me off and crying at the same time.
And while i am fighting my epic battle with the baby, Terelle comes running to me and askes me to play with her cos my helper simply has no idea how to entertain her. I ask her to wait till the baby's asleep and she glues herself to the goggle box again. I think venomous thoughts along the lines of "why is my maid so darn inept that she cant entertain a 3year old for a couple of minutes?" and take my anger out on Terelle by continuing to yell at her to switch the damn tv off.

The baby is finally asleep but by now Terelle has watched a whole hour and a half of mindless cartoons and my wrist is aching badly. I force myself to inject some cheer in my voice as i ask her nicely if she would like to do some painting/coloring/puzzles/play with her playdoh/toys/read a book. She says no to all the above and screams non stop when i switch the tv off. I take my rising resentment and anger out on her by yelling at her yet again and ignoring her completely as she sulks on the sofa.

After awhile she comes over and asks me in a pathetically plaintive voice "Mummy make happy face, Mummy dont be angry" and my heart breaks. God, she must be thinking what a monster Mummy is! I must be doing some serious damage to her emotional health!

I remind myself for the umpteenth time that she is only a kid and that i really shouldnt shout at her for nothing. We do some activity for a whole of 20min before she loses interest in it and wants to go back to watching tv. I yell at her to switch the blasted thing off again and she goes and sulks again. The cycle continues.
Am i really such a failure at entertaining my own kid? Am i so boring compared to the damn tv??

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

If she goes to school, at least i get some respite but its still not time for myself. The baby needs a bath, has to be fed and bounced to sleep again and i need some lunch and visit the toilet. If im lucky, the maid plays with him and he is happy while i can do my business in peace. On bad days, i have to rush through my business and cant do it properly cos i can hear him wailing himself hoarse outside. I am that pathetic.
And oh i forgot...i realise i didnt even have time to wash my face that morning.

If she doesnt go to school, i have an even harder time. After having barked at her non stop for the past hour to chew and swallow (Terelle hates eating, by the way), i am frustrated and sweltering (stupid muggy weather) and my patience is at its limit. And there she goes and sneezes, hurling chunks of food that she has been keeping in her mouth for the past 15min all over the dining table, floor and my face.
I literally lose it. Rage consumes me as i scream at her so malevolently i scare myself. She bawls and i send her to the room as i sit on the sofa and weep. I think to myself, how much more of this can i take?? After i compose myself i go to the room and find her a whimpering wreck and i start berating myself again as i try my best to soothe away the tears and raw feelings.

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

If she doesnt go to school, i have to think of ways to entertain my gal, her with the attention span of a gnat. Somedays i take her out, but trying to manage 2 kids outside, albeit with a maid's help, leaves me exhausted and i wish i had stayed home instead.
Yet being exhausted outside still beats staying at home with a bored 3 year old who can take just that much of painting/coloring/puzzles/playdoh/toys/books. But hey, there are just that many places to go in Singapore and the blistering heat doesnt help one bit. Or am i just not creative enough?

When they are awake, im counting the hours till they take their nap. When they are napping, i pray fervently that they dont wake so soon. If there were a drug that would make my kids sleep the whole day without any bad side effects, ill rush out to buy it. Now what kind of mother am i to wish that her kids be asleep the whole day??
They have to sleep their requisite 2 hours so i can take the time to just cool myself down. If either of them wakes prematurely i find myself taking my frustration and despair out on them again. Its so unfair to them i know, but i cant help it.

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

By 6pm im usually in such a state of misery that i start sms-ing hubby to ask what time he's coming home. Ive just checked the sent box on my handphone and realise that 4 out of 5 weekdays i ask him the same question. My messages sound especially anguished when Terelle is up from her nap earlier than usual and is in a foul mood.
Hubby has never complained about having to receive these messages day after day but i am depressed by the state i am now reduced to. I just live for the time he comes home and when he does im usually an exhausted, sweaty, crabby mess and I hate it.

Am i too idealistic in trying to raise my kids?

Perhaps a couple of hours of tv a day wouldnt do too much harm?
But i have friends who can keep their kids away from the idiot box and yet still keep them entertained by activity books, flashcards and books and here i am falling so far short of that benchmark.

Perhaps letting the baby cry it out for awhile wouldnt hurt him at all?
But ive read that happy, secure babies are the ones that have their needs met all the time and are stronger and healthier as a result; and I worry about letting him cry till he's out of breath while i am struggling with managing Terelle's emotions.

Perhaps letting Terelle play in the playground is a better idea than keeping her at home?
But what about the epidemic levels of hfmd now??

Perhaps letting Terelle go to a childcare for the whole day will do both her and me some good? But what about exposure to all those germy kids? What will that do to her fragile, allergy prone body??

Perhaps leaving them alone with the maid is alright while i go have some me time?
But i cant, i just cant bear the thought of leaving them alone with a complete stranger, someone whose entire background was only presented to me on a sheet of paper.

I look on enviously at friends whose parents help them to no end with their kids. And i start getting even more resentful because i know that i will never be able to have that luxury.

Perhaps im really being too hard on myself.
Perhaps i really should let go a little.
Perhaps i should just stop comparing myself with other supermums.
Perhaps i should go back to work so that when i come back ill miss them so much ill be a happier mum. (But that is out of the question cos i have no parental help and i cant bear to send them to a childcare)
Or perhaps im just not cut out for this job.
I feel like a terrible, useless mum.