I did not have a good day today. In fact I had a very very bad mommy day. The kind of day where I yelled way too much and then felt bad for it afterwards. The kind of day where I really question myself and why on earth I ever had kids. Not because I don’t love them, but because I feel like I’m doing a crap job of things.
It started out with a jelly jar. A jelly jar Brendan decided to ‘help’ me with by pulling it out of the fridge and promptly dropped it to the floor. Do they make plastic jelly jars? If they do the company that uses them now has at least the next 16 years worth of business from me. Glass, all over the kitchen floor. Ugh. It wasn’t even 7am yet! I kept my cool and didn’t fuss, and just cleaned it up as quick as possible.
Things went downhill from there. Brendan kept stripping his clothes off and I’d have to tell him 5+ times to put them back on before he’d so much as look up. I got mad and took tv away for the day, and that turned into a constant fight of him turning it back on every 30 minutes or so. Gabrielle kept making comments to him in a snotty “I’m bigger than you so do what I say” tone, and I had to speak to her about that repeatedly.
Poor Damian was the only one NOT in trouble today, and likely only because Brendan was so busy terrorizing him he didn’t have time. At one point Damian is playing quietly with a toy and Brendan decides he wants it, so he runs at him SCREAMING and literally tackles him, fighting him for the toy. This happened again later, only Brendan ended up catching him in a run and making him faceplant on the split brick floor by the back door. I just KNEW there was going to be stitches when he looked up, but by some miracle he was fine. At that point I lost it. Yelled SO badly I know the neighbors had to have heard, and put Brendan to bed. I was done, I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Game over.
And now here I am, 6 hours later feeling awful. I know tomorrow will be better, and that he won’t be scarred for life by the experience, but damnit all! Why does this job have to be so friggin hard?? Why do I have these two sweet, generally well-behaved kids, and then this one who simply looks at the molds and laughs? Would I be the most horrible parent in the world if I asked why on earth can’t he just be normal??
How is it I have accomplished so much in my life, yet feel so utterly incompetent because of a 3 year old child?