I yelled at Aiden tonight. For no apparent reason other than I was tired and frustrated. Keith had put him to bed (and then left for his dinner plans), Kipton had gone down and was in his room. Aiden was calling to me, nothing really out of the ordinary and I just wanted to eat dinner. I was already headed up when Kipton started waking up. By the end of the day, especially when Kipton doesn't nap and Aiden has been under me all day... I just, I just wanted to sit down and... sit. Anyway, I get Aiden and Kipton, hug Aiden only to discover that his "jamas" and his bed are soaked. I didn't get upset at first, just figured that he wet through his diaper, despite that fact that it had only been 2 hours and it was an overnight. I put Kipton on the floor, who was still very upset and wanted to be held, wrangled down Aiden who was running wildly through his room. I unzipped him, only to find that he had taken his diaper halfway off. And I just lost it. For no reason. I had to go get another diaper and another set of pjs and he was running everywhere and jumping and yelling. I had to get another sheet. I yelled, in that voice my mama yelled at us in, to lay down. *tears* And poor little thing, he tried, but the bed was all messed up, didn't have a sheet on it, mattress on the edge of the bed. And I yelled at him again to sit down while I changed the sheet.
I snuggled with him, laid down with him. Told him I was sorry that Mama was mean and Mama yelled at him. I told him that I loved him and that Mama was going to be better. But what have I done? What have I done by yelling at him-- for no real reason? What have I done? I don't want him to see me as hating being a Mommy. I don't want him to think that Mommy has a short fuse. I don't want him to think that yelling is an appropriate response when he's angry. I don't want him to see me like this. Because I don't want to hurt him, in any way.
When I laid down with him a little later, when Kipton was asleep, he asked "Mommy song?" He wanted me to sing him to sleep-- his bedtime lullaby. Amazing Grace. And then asked me to sing it again. I kissed him, told him I loved him, and sang it again. All 4 verses.
How to do harness this exhaustive rage? How do I create patience when I have none left? Does this mean I'm NOT cut out to be mom? Does this mean I have no hope of being the mom I want to be? Does it mean that I'm failing overall as a mom or just today or just in that moment? ...Ask any Christian, it just means I need to pray harder and surrender my heart to Jesus. And as much as I know that's the truth, it just pisses me off. You know why? Because it's not that easy-- and it's not that quickly remedied.
Do I have an anger issue? Or am I just tired? Am I weary from 12-16 hour days alone with the boys? Am I simply so sleep deprived that my ability to correctly handle situations at the end of long day of Mommying is shot? And really, is Mommying that hard?!?! I mean how hard could a 2 yr old and an 8 month old be? Shouldn't I be able to handle it all? Aren't women designed for endless patience and comforting skills? Shouldn't we thrive off endless cries for 'Mommy Hug' (read: hold)? Shouldn't we live for the sound of little feet on the floor right next to ours, sometimes on ours, with hands all over our legs and butt? Is it so wrong that I want to scramble eggs with both arms free and no one touching my ass!?! But does that mean I'm not a good mother?
I thought I was feeling so much better this week. I gave up baby training and started doing what felt more 'right'. I stopped trying to go against what I think is the right way to raise my children. A friend taught me how to have 'school' with Aiden. Kipton has taken a morning nap almost everyday since I stopped stressing out about putting him to sleep without holding him. I just started sleeping on the floor in his room so I don't have to walk to and from all night long. And my baby doesn't cry as long I'm around and that makes life easier. I felt very much like I was getting things together this week. I had a few minor breakdowns in sanity, but no real collapse. No long insightful monologues in my head about how my actions were destroying my boys. Until tonight.
I was convicted of my behavior tonight. I'm ashamed that I yell at all at Aiden. He has the sweetest spirit I've ever seen. When handled gently, he listens and responds with such sweet innocence. But I forget that. I forget that sometimes he's making me nuts because I've spent most of my free time the last 2 weeks looking for a crib (Kipton and I are both on the floor currently). I get irritated with Kipton that I can't go to the gym because of his separation anxiety. I got irritated with Kipton when he wouldn't sleep because the stupid books said he should be sleeping. I get frustrated with Aiden when he talks. Endlessly. I get frustrated with Aiden when he whines about nothing (but it's something, you see, I just don't know what, which is what's so annoying). See, the thing is, my priorities get screwed up some days. Or weeks. Or months. Like when I was hellbent on going to the gym every morning, forcing Kipton to miss a nap, just so that I could workout and get my old body back. Or when I force Aiden to stay in his room when he CLEARLY isn't going to sleep so that I can clean up the living room. It only makes me furious to hear him shake the door and yell for me. If I'd just let him out, we could play. And laugh. And dance. Like we do when my priorities are in order.
I'm in no way saying that I don't need a break every now and then--or daily-- but I am saying that when something is more important than my kids, that's when I'm angry with them. When my expectations of perfect obedience --or compliance at all-- are beyond their ability, that's when I feel most like I'm failing. Perspective is, indeed, everything. Perspective is set by priorities,and lately, my priorities have been a little whacked. So, I've resigned myself to knowing I won't get time off on a regular basis, so I have to change my priorities. So a smaller rear and a clean living room aren't worth my sanity. Or emotional scars for my boys.
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