Mittens. Mitts. Hand warmers. Snowball makers. Whatever you call them, they get lost. And if you have young children, they get lost a lot. And if you have more than one child and you are overwhelmed and feel like you are woefully ill equipped at mothering then you lose your perspective at lost mittens. That's it. Apparently, lost mitts are the threshold for sanity in my world.
Well, yesterday the threshold was lost mittens.
Today it's a whiny 2 year old.
Tomorrow...? who knows. Maybe something else completely predictable like a potty accident, or burnt toast.
Back in November I bought Carlon a pair of gloves and a pair of mitts. $20 in total. one month in the gloves were lost. Two days ago then go the mitts. Brad decided to let Carlon use Noah's mitts, which are 30% smaller, and I made a big deal about it.
"These belong to your brother.... DO NOT take them off outside"
Then back to arguing with Brad about what to do about it and Carlon, fighting tears, says, "it's ok, I won't use his mitts"
Cut to mom feeling like a jerk.
and she cried about it most of the day.
I don't remember my mom having these moments. Is is because she had three girls? Is it a gender issue? Or was she just better equipped at handling such attrocities? Or maybe she did have them and I don't remember, I hope for the last of those three. It gives me comfort to think my mom found mothering to be as hard as I do. And even more comforting to think that if I can't remember her losing it then hopefully my kids won't remember either.
But, when it comes down to brass tacks, I don't think that is the point. I mean to say that my reaction to the mitts has more to do with me and where I am at than how Carlon takes care of his belongings.
The reality is we have had a hard week here in superhero land. Brad has been carrying around a mountain of stress on his shoulders and it is wearing him down. He managed to take two days off this week which is good for him. I, on the other hand, have been an emotional train wreck since Christmas time, and have not found the pressure release valve.
90 percent of the time I feel like I have screwed up because I let my emotions get in the way of rational parenting. And lately, my emotions are about as stable as a souffle during an earthquake.
I have prayed. Believe me. I can see myself losing it and I say "God help!" and sometimes it works and sometimes it delays and sometimes it does nothing. This morning I was still burying myself in guilt over it that my day was trashed before it even started. And my two year old, Iain, is losing it. Like LOHOOHOOHOOSING IT. It was 10 am and I asked him if he wanted a nap? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! What's the colour of scream?
So, by 10:30, I was losing it. I tried shoving food in him, I tried carrying him around, I tried everything but he wanted it all and nothing at the same time. He was inconsolable. And I was ready to run.
But, I'm the adult here. I should be able to get a grip. shouldn't I?
.... I'm out of words. Maybe I'll be able to accept God's grace tomorrow and we'll have a better day.
No comments:
Post a Comment