I don’t know if it was because the littlest didn’t nap. Or because my husband’s work schedule was weird. Or maybe it was because I’m excited and distracted by my book. But I was not at my best today. Not by a long shot.
What I do know, is that I yelled too much. I yelled way more loudly than usual. You know that angry yell that bubbles up from your throat when you’re just flat out mad? My usual patience was at an all time low. My oldest sat in time out more than he does on other days. The youngest (17 months) kept trying to sneak out the front door and got progressively more sneaky about it. The two oldest kept making the others cry, seemingly just to do it. Cushions, pillows, and stuffed animals were constant projectiles, along with matchbox cars, animal figurines and wooden blocks. It was just one of those days.
At one point my husband asked me why I was so uptight, which usually has the opposite effect he’s trying to achieve. When you’ve been a stay at home mom for awhile, 4+ years in my case, it does something to you. While some days I have seemingly unlimited patience for my kid’s craziness, I also feel like I have no patience at all.
Some days it feels like I reach this imaginary threshold where I just can’t handle anymore. Anymore fighting, crying, whining, or demanding. And once that threshold is reached, mom taps out. From that moment on, the day is survival and the patience is gone.
Strange enough, I find that when my husband is home, I have even less patience to give before I hit my threshold. Sure, we can sit and stare at each other and given the kids side-eye for awhile, but it isn’t long before that playful nature ends and I just need it to stop. I think this is because when I’m alone with the kids, I mostly let them run wild (within reason). Maybe I put pressure on myself to have things more together when he’s home. Which is dumb. Bad dumb mom brain.
But along with the yelling, I tried to apologize. Especially when my anger was unwarranted. I tried to breathe and not yell as much. I did my laundry and washed the dishes and tried to keep my surroundings clean in an attempt to calm myself.
Fifty-one minutes until bedtime and I’m feeling a lot calmer. I’m going to hold in all my crazy, give them a snack, and read them some books. Then I’ll breathe and savor my quiet evening. Assuming the baby wants to sleep tonight. God I hope the baby sleeps tonight!
To anyone struggling with their kids today, I wish you sleeping babies and lots of quiet! The bad days are going to happen, but so far my kids don’t seem too worse for wear. Tomorrow will be better. ❤
(39 minutes until bedtime)