I swear that the older I get, the more PMS I get. today, I was a bear. my poor nate got the brunt of it. deserved? never. justified? not really. pushing all my buttons? absolutely. overtired? you betcha. finally, after having an argument over why cool whip is not an appropriate snack in bed [can I have cool whip? no. can I have cool whip? no. - x20], I walked away, closed my door and cried. seriously bawled my eyes out. I sat on the hard, cold floor of my bedroom and sobbed. "I can't do this mom thing. I'm awful. I am wrecking my child. I'm damaging him for life." all things that were going through my head. then, he came into my room, sat on my lap and hugged me. he wiped my tears and asked if I was okay. we talked about how I want him to grow up to be a kind, obedient boy. I apologized for yelling. I told him that he needed to go to bed. he asked for cool whip. after I said no, yet again, he asked for a banana.
this exhausts me. emotionally and physically. I don't know how people in their forties have babies - babies turn into toddlers, preschoolers and grade one boys. more work that I can deal with in a day.
that all said, I feel rotten. tomorrow I will hug him again and make sure he knows he's loved. and I am grateful that tomorrow is a brand new day - fresh with no mistakes in it. [courtesy of Miss Shirley from Anne of Green Gables] grace new every morning. for this I am thankful.