There are days when everything feels wrong and I just want to scream "Everyone get away from me!" Today was one of those days. Since Emerson is sleeping and Brenton has been sent to his room for bad behavior I can say the day is essentially over. Mostly I can breathe a sigh of relief because I am sitting outside in the quiet by the pool with the setting sun and an alcoholic beverage.
My life is not difficult or complicated. We are all healthy and are very comfortable. Still as anyone who has young children knows I have days I might consider stabbing myself in the leg just so that I could spend a couple hours away from everyone.
It might be because Brenton currently only listens to me when I yell at him. Or it could be that for the twentieth time I have asked Emerson to stop eating a stick or a rock or a stick and a rock. It even perhaps could be that my husband has disappeared at the quintessential moment when everything is in full meltdown to take a half hour trip to the bathroom. I mean I have never unless something is wrong taken a 30 minute shit. Regardless there could be a slew of reasons why a knife to the thigh seems like a good idea.
My mother is visiting and she is so wonderful. She reminds me that this is hard and that it is ok that this is hard. Raising young children is relentless. They climb on you they put their spit all over you and they need you all the time. She tells me calmly that it does get easier in some ways and harder in others. It is helpful even though I am not sure I thanked her for making me feel better.
Today was just rough. From my attempt to clean Brenton's car seat the day was off to a bad start. The kids were fussy and it was just too hot and humid and I had forgotten how carseats are clearly manufactured by Satan himself.
It was a bad idea but it needed to be done. As a result Rolston and I yelled at each other and I crumbled in a heap because I could not get the buckle through the hole. It was like putting together IKEA furniture. A recipe for disaster and pain and suffering for all around me.
I wish I could say I was good at dealing with frustration but I am not. I wish I could say I don't yell at my kids or my husband when I am frustrated but I cant. The truth is I am difficult and occasionally I make things even more difficult when I reach a certain point.
After the carseat I should have called it a day but the boys were determined to keep the misery going as long as possible. More whining until nap time and then I fled with my mother to Target. It really was that or a knife to my own leg.
Target is a bad idea when upset because retail therapy is so soothing. I managed to get out of there with only a few extra items and avoided buying a new rug. Then off to pick up the online yardsale find for Brenton and through the 5 dollar car wash so I could use the vacuum since the car set was still sitting on the floor in the family room. The farm stand for corn was next and then back home to the maniacs who were up from their naps already wrecking havoc.
I escaped to the pool and they followed me. It's easier in the pool. I can throw them. I can whirl them around and make them chase me. I can shoot them with water guns and splash them. It is cathartic.
But eventually they want to get out and run and have me push them on swings and eat rocks and sticks and ask ten thousand questions. So the feeling of frustration creeps back in. Then it's time to make dinner and set the table and make sure everyone is settled. My husband makes a dig at me and I am furious. Other days it wouldn't matter but today as Brenton is sneaking something he was told he couldn't have more than a few times and it was just too much.
He was sent to his room and I put his brother to bed and now here I sit decompressing and my mother just announced through the window that she went upstairs and now Brenton is crying. She offered to sit with him but he has had too much of what he wants today and must learn to work it out on his own.
Tomorrow will be a better day. Tomorrow I will not be so frustrated because I definitely won't attempt to do anything even marginally frustrating. I just hope it is a little easier and that I will not want to scream for eveyone to get away from me.
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