Yesterday, well yesterday was just bad.
Bad, crappy, and horrible. And thank God that today is a new day.
But wait, today’s the day that I have to knuckle down on the kids to get them to really help and get the house in shape for Zach’s slumber party Friday, because John told Zach that while we’ll help with the front of the house, he is responsible for getting the back of the house how he wants it to look for his company. Why does he always make rules or such like this that I have to be the one to enforce?? Seriously. Biggest pet peeve I have with our parenting, and he knows this.
Yesterday the kids did nothing but fight with each, fight with me, throw fits, scream, and cry. Oh there was so much crying. I tried being calm. I tried being nice and sweet and understanding. And oh, I just failed. In the words of Zach, I failed epically. But God, did I try, and by the time John got home I was thinking how smart sea turtles are to just lay their eggs on a beach and let the baby turtles just have at it on their own.
Days like yesterday really make me wish we kept alcohol in the house. The daughter of the alcoholic in me shudders at me thinking that.
I sat in the shower last night and went over how crummy the day had been. How horrible I felt for yelling at the kids – multiple times. I just sat there and thought “What is happening? This isn’t me or them, and this definitely isn’t how I want our whole summer break to go.” Then when I got out of the shower and checked the computer once more before going to bed I see this reposted on Facebook from my friend Heather.
So I followed the link with it and went and signed up for the daily emails that the site sends out.
I went to bed last night and decided I’d do three new things in the morning. First, I would put on real clothes, a touch of make up, and brush my hair as soon as I woke up. (Because surely if I think I look nice I’ll feel a little better.) Second, I won’t yell, not at all, or about anything. Third, I would hold the kids to getting their stuff done before anything else. I always say that I will do that, but I honestly don’t. It’s just easier to let them do as they want instead of making them do things like clean the playroom or bedroom. It’s a hassle, and a headache, and I’m yelling. Today they are doing it and I’m not backing down on this. They can fight all they want over who picks up what. They can sit and cry and pout. But I’m not going back there, and they aren’t coming up here, until someone comes to tell me they are ready for me to come check the room.
This might seem harsh, but the boys are big enough to handle the cleaning of their messes back there on their own, and they’re big enough not to need me standing over and yelling at them to do it. If Zach doesn’t want to do anything then he’s either having his company over to a messy house, or he’s not having them over.
Last I checked, they haven’t done much in the hour they’ve been back there, but they have done some.
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