I'm sitting on the upper level of this train car, heading in to work and feeling nothing but negative emotions. Angry. Frustrated. Disappointed. Sad. Regretful. To add to that, I'm sweating, crampy and not feeling very attractive or smart.
Our morning started out okay. I managed to roll out of bed just before 5:30am so I could get downstairs to get a run in. It was a decent run, too. At 2.4 miles, it was short; but I was strong.
Once done with my run, I made Cal's lunch in silence while I cooled down. I didn't have Ella begging me to "help" or actually "helping" me and doubling the time it took to make the lunch as a result.
I even had time to catch some of Mike & Mike, and actually heard what they had to say.
I was in a pretty good mood.
Ella was the first Leatherkid to get out of bed. It was probably 6:25am when I saw her as I started to make my way up the stairs to shower in what I thought would be silence. I sensed that her mood was fragile, so I handled her delicately, suppressing the reality that we would be rushed through the rest of our morning so I could get them to school and myself to the train in time to catch my target train.
She followed me up the stairs and lay on my bed as I showered. Her choice. This was okay with me -- at least we weren't fighting. It was peaceful. I carefully informed her she could stay there until I was out of the shower, after which she needed to get dressed.
Cal was up and getting dressed by now. His new pants didn't fit right, so he changed them himself. I would need to return them, so I headed to his room to grab the pants and find the tag that he had ripped off. I gave his bed the sniff test and realized his bedding needed to be washed again. This has become part of the drill and didn't upset my morning.
After I had finished showering, I reminded Ella it was time for her to get dressed. She got up from the bed and came into the bathroom where she wanted to dry her hair. I let her while I got dressed, brushed my own hair and put some face cream and mascara on. At least she was content.
Despite my suggesting that she wear a skirt and leggings (both in her dresser drawers), she insisted on a dress, which I needed to help her with. A multi-tasker, I started brushing my teeth; and we headed to her room to get her dressed. This went pretty smoothly, but did eat away at some of the time I needed to finish getting myself ready. She insisted I stay while she picked out her socks, and I complied because I didn't want to fight -- had I left before she had picked out her socks, I would have surely had to deal with significant whining. I just didn't want to.
I finished getting myself ready and informed the kids as I started making my way downstairs it was time to get their shoes on. This rarely goes smoothly and usually takes a fair amount of time. Neither kid had shoes on. They both asked for a "Danimals" shake, which I told them they could have after they had their shoes on. They accepted this condition.
Their shoes went on quickly and without a hiccup. They drank their Danimals shakes. We were a little late, but not too bad. And we were happy.
And then Cal picked up his backpack, and things went downhill fast because his bag wasn't heavy enough, and he let me know it, having a complete meltdown complete with screaming and many tears. Not five minutes earlier, he was happy... ecstatic because he had finally finished building the "ring of fire" and "ramp," the remaining two components of the Lego set he bought on Monday (see http://www.theleatherkidchronicles.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-kids-cashed-in-today.html). He had been working on building this set all week, so this was something to be excited about.
But his darn backpack wasn't heavy enough because the night before I had taken all of the books he's been carting around in it but not using. Too many times I heard him say that he couldn't carry all of his stuff, blaming most of it on his heavy backpack. I thought I was being thoughtful.
Frustrated, I told him he could put two books in it. I don't know why two -- staring at the stack of maybe seven I had removed the night before, two seemed like a decent compromise. It's always two, though. Ella can bring two stuffed animals to school, not the five she wants to bring. Cal can have two cookies. Two. Two. Two.
As Cal put two books into his backpack, I started shuffling Ella toward the door to start our departure. Lucky for me, she had her backpack on. No coat because I didn't want to have THAT fight. No, her coat was in her backpack. But she was happy. As she and I made our way out the door, Cal was screaming at us to wait. I didn't. He made it out the door as I had started getting Ella into her carseat. He was still crying and yelling at me. His backpack was still too light.
I yelled at him to get in the car and ran inside to get the rest of the stack of his books that he's been carting around in his backpack. Sweat was now pouring off of my forehead.
I made it back to the car, yanked his backpack from his hands as he sat in his booster and shoved the books into his backpack, yelling the whole time. Oh, I laid into him, explaining that he doesn't need to carry all of those books, there was a reason I took them out and that I didn't want to hear him tell me that he can't carry all of his stuff. Oh, no, I would not be carrying his lunch bag or coat going forward -- he was responsible for it, heavy backpack or not.
I laid into him. I'm pretty sure I dropped the f-bomb. I backed out of the driveway at about 60mph and continued my rant as we headed down the neighborhood streets faster than we should have but not dangerously fast (I did have some control over myself). I know I yelled "dammit" a few times, mostly directing at myself for losing it. I also informed him that if I missed my train I wouldn't be able to catch an early train home and he would not be able to play with his Legos.
Ella was quiet the whole time. Before we got to school, Cal's tears had stopped and my words were just bouncing off of him. My yelling was completely ineffective. I was releasing a lot of frustration that I think had been building up inside me without my knowing it. Handling the delicate mood of Ella. Clearing the bedding off of Cal's bed. Getting Ella dressed. Avoiding fights outright by telling the kids they didn't need coats. And the backpack. That darn, apparently not heavy enough backpack.
This train was my target train. I had to sprint the quarter mile from my car to catch it, but I did. As negatively emoted as I am right now (I'm not even sure if that's a word), I do intend to catch the earlier train home so that Cal has time to play with his new Legos that he finished assembling. I do look forward to that, assuming he's happy when I actually do get him early, which isn't always the case. Until then, I'm not sure what kind of day I'm going to have. I'm not feeling too good about myself, my actions, my appearance, my parenting skills (or lack thereof).
But I'll come around... with a new approach... I always do.
No comments:
Post a Comment