
I've been working on my resolution not to yell. And beyond not yelling, not to be sarcastic or have an exasperated tone. Yesterday was really tough.
We had a hectic start to the morning and then my sister called. I shouldn't have answered it, but her name didn't show up on the caller ID and I was afraid it was a church member.
Then we were doing reading and Nicholas was being noisy, so I sent him to play upstairs. Reading took forever (Why was she making g sounds?!?! The last g was 6 pages back!) and was exasperating and I was praying so hard for patience. Plus the baby was fussing. And Nick was screaming "Can I come down yet? I WILL BE QUIET!"
So, finish reading, latch on baby, send Katie Grace up to get her brother. She goes up, but never comes back down. Trying to get fussy teething baby to sleep, but not only are they not coming down, they're banging doors, screaming, chucking stuff around. I'm trying to yell--without waking the baby--"Get back downstairs now, please!" Which honestly, I probably wouldn't have done if they were just being quiet. I would have waited till the baby was good and asleep.
Went upstairs, and Katie Grace had shut herself in a closet and couldn't get out. (When I called DH to tell him what happened, at this point he said, "Wait. You did let her out, right?"

I did.) This is where I really lost it and just screamed. I screamed that seeing as she wasn't a dress, she had absolutely no reason to be in the closet with the door shut. I screamed that she was old enough to do what I asked, especially something as simplistic as 'Tell your little brother he can come downstairs, and then come back down." I screamed that never in my life had I wanted to spank a child more, and it was a horrible thing to scream at a child. I realized I was out of control and sent the boy child down to clean up his blocks and the girl child down to sit on the bottom step, and I took a couple minutes to get myself together and feel generally miserable and the, while walking down the stairs, tripped and fell over a block Nicholas had left there. I hurt my wrist, thumb, back, and tushie. It was probably one of my lowest parenting moments ever, and my back still hurts today. Karma, I guess.
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