I’m gonna be honest with you.
Yesterday was a hard day.
Then I took it out on my kids.
I’m tired. I’m stretched thin. Me aaaaand the bank account.
I’m the adult. I should be the one to roll with the punches. I should be the one to set a gentle example to my children when the walls come crashing down.
IIIIII am the safe place!
Right?
Except…
I am not patient.
I am not gentle.
I am not soft-spoken.
I am discontent.
I feel pressed and resentful.
I was supposed to (self-imposed) do a “Take It On Tuesday” video.
But the day demanded other things from me first.
By the time I thought I might get a little time in front of the camera… to be silly… lighten up… get some creative time in… deep anger began to grab hold.
The straw: a lost ballet slipper.
THE EXACT BALLET SLIPPERS THAT SHOULD BE PUT IN A BOX THAT NEVER MOVES. THE EXACT BALLET SLIPPERS THAT ARE ONLY TO BE WORN TO BALLET CLASS. LOST 1 MINUTE BEOFRE LEAVING FOR CLASS.
aaaaaaand just the explosion of kid stuff everywhere.
EHHHHHHHHVERYWHERE.
I realize one day I will feel lonely and wish for the mess, but today… it made me feel unloved.
I took it personally. The mess felt like my kids were trying to tell me, “We don’t care about you, and we laugh in the face of your precious TIME.”
I yelled.
I said some bad words.
::shame::
The crazy mess made me feel like my daily efforts to keep life running are stupid to everyone and “LET’S HAVE A MESS MAKING PARTY!!! MOM WILL CLEAN IT UP AND WE WILL ASK FOR PLAY DATES AND ICE CREAM!!!!”
On a normal day, I would have been normal angry. But yesterday I was ragey-angry … probably because of the weight of everything else.
It wasn’t their fault.
Not really.
It wasn’t my fault.
Except it was.
I am the Mom. I am the safe place. I am the calm before, during, and after the storm.
It doesn’t mean I am to pick up after my family.
But it sometimes does mean I pick up after my family.
I love to serve them.
I love to bless them.
But sometimes it backfires.
Like yesterday.
So. Take It On Tuesday didn’t happen.
Because I felt angry.
Because I couldn’t turn my attitude around. I couldn’t fake “funny and sparkles”.
///
I love my kids so crazy much. I hate when these moments happen.
Deep, heart-wrenching regret.
I do tell them I am sorry.
But it doesn’t make those moments go away.
Ugh. Sometimes it feels like all I have to give is FAIL.
Peace and sparkles? I guess it was buried under a stinky pile of emotional crap.
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Peace and Sparkles!
Jenny
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