You know those days that just seem doomed from the get-go? You wake up still exhausted with a crick in your neck and a bad dream resounding in your psyche. You step out of bed directly onto a Lego, the toast burns, you forget to turn the coffee pot on and your children seem to all have taken on the personas of UFC fighters since yesterday.
Yup. Today was one of those days.
My crummy morning progressed into a nightmare of a day. Dead car battery, with three kids in a rain storm. Kid home early from preschool with an earache and an “accident” that needed a bath. This is where it gets really nutty. Trying to calm the screaming three-year-old with poop down his leg, simultaneously keeping him from moving an inch or touching anything, the bathtub faucet broke off in my hand. The faucet I have been meaning to have fixed for months. A jet of unstoppable hot water started filling the bathroom with steam and I completely lost my mind.
My meter hit red and I just couldn’t deal anymore. I couldn’t deal with all of them being in my face. I couldn’t deal with the tsunami in my bathroom and I couldn’t deal with the fact that I HAD to deal with it. All of it. Day after day. I yelled. And not just a normal yell. This was a banshee, pterodactyl, Mommy-is-transforming-into-an-ambulance-siren type of wail. And my three little birdies that had been chirping demands and complaints just seconds earlier responded with a stunned silence. Which was a notable first for them.
The shame flooded in immediately. I quickly shooed the boys out and locked myself into the bathroom, letting the water levels of the bathtub rise while my heart sank. The screams that had turned to sobs were then being calmed by deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth, just like I always coached my little ones. When I emerged from my “timeout” i was calm, but kinda heartbroken.
Sometimes I’m “Mama” and then sometimes, I’m just Amie. An ordinary person with flaws and a limit. I have bad days, days that I can’t keep it together no matter how hard I try. Days where I can’t handle life with grace, days that I’m rude or cranky or whiny. Just like my little ones, I suppose.
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