By 7:30 am this morning, my son and I were arguing. My hands were being thrown up in exasperation and I was yelling like a crazed lunatic.
Our arguing only increased and by 7:40am, we had woke up my husband. Of course, this then turned into an argument between us, where frustrated and annoyed, he left ten minutes later to go get a haircut. I don't know what place is open before 8am...but whatever, that's his problem.
The arguing finally calmed down. My son went about his business and me, mine. An hour later, I needed to run an errand and asked my son to stop playing his video game, get dressed and come with me.
Cue - Round 2.
I felt my blood boil, but this time rather than lose my shit all over again, I went for a walk.
While walking, I began to beat myself up.
My parenting sucks. I suck. Why do I yell like that?
He's only 8. What's wrong with me?
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
Two blocks over, I passed by a friend of my son's house. I could hear the mom calling for him. The weather is breezy here and their windows were open. I kept walking and when I was a few houses down, I heard her scream "Are you kidding me?" followed by screams so loud, I couldn't even make out what she was saying.
By the time I got home, I felt much less like a bad mom and more like a normal mom.
Eight years olds really can suck! Sometimes moms need to yell.
Our arguing only increased and by 7:40am, we had woke up my husband. Of course, this then turned into an argument between us, where frustrated and annoyed, he left ten minutes later to go get a haircut. I don't know what place is open before 8am...but whatever, that's his problem.
The arguing finally calmed down. My son went about his business and me, mine. An hour later, I needed to run an errand and asked my son to stop playing his video game, get dressed and come with me.
Cue - Round 2.
I felt my blood boil, but this time rather than lose my shit all over again, I went for a walk.
While walking, I began to beat myself up.
My parenting sucks. I suck. Why do I yell like that?
He's only 8. What's wrong with me?
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
Two blocks over, I passed by a friend of my son's house. I could hear the mom calling for him. The weather is breezy here and their windows were open. I kept walking and when I was a few houses down, I heard her scream "Are you kidding me?" followed by screams so loud, I couldn't even make out what she was saying.
By the time I got home, I felt much less like a bad mom and more like a normal mom.
Eight years olds really can suck! Sometimes moms need to yell.
