I went in to the boys' bedroom tonight to apologize for some unkind words I used today. O and R graciously accepted my apology, but then asked me why I called the crayon "stupid" today. I looked at them blankly, my mind scrolling back through the shattered memory I have of today's events.
I remember T hammering a yellow crayon into the rug this morning... but I'm sure I didn't say "stupid" about that.... I was definitely more irritated when I told R, "I don't CARE about the crayon." Oh. The crayon... must have been the "stupid crayon." Yes. I do remember that comment (which was actually the one I came in to apologize for). I have no excuse. The boys have a blow up crayon that is highly amusing to them, and frustrating to me (because it's being used as a weapon, of course).
My flesh is weak. I'm tired and emotional and feeling incapable of making it through
Then... there are other moments I'd like to forget, too. After showing up a few minutes late to our dr. appointments yesterday I had to embarrassingly admit that I didn't have our new insurance cards. What a big deal that was! I knew better. After that glaring incompetence, I took T (2) to the bathroom, with M in his carseat, while the other children played. I wonder if the nurses/receptionists heard the monologue that I heard (and imagined they did, too!).
T: Wow! I like this bathroom.
It's pretty nice.
I like the white and the potty.
Look! The paper is by the floor!
I need to have doodoos.
That's a big daddy doodoo.
We don't eat doodoos.
They taste bad on our tongue.
Yeah. So even if our bellies like them, we don't eat them.
We eat watermelon.
These are shorts, not pants. I like shorts.
And so much more... but I'm already forgetting.