Thirty two days. 


This morning was beautiful. The kids were all happy. I mean holding hands and running around the house, playing and laughing. This is rare. Paul and I though maybe we had been dreaming.

Before he left for work, though, Egan began crying. He does that a lot. We think he is cutting another molar but who really knows. Also Gannon started acting as if he were a puddle instead of a human with a skeleton and Waverly stopped doing anything to be cooperative. Today is Wednesday and we go to gymnastics on Wednesday so we needed to get ready and leave the house. Waverly refused to wear any footwear that made sense and chose a pair of Maryjanes that clearly would keep her feet dry in the slushy ice covering the ground. It was a battle I chose not to fight and she wore the shoes.

I usually go get munchkins and bagels before gymnastics. They were out of munchkins today, of course, so I had to deal with Gannon’s emotions about a change in routine. When we got to the gym the parking lot was a combination of slush and ice. The spot I typically park in which is near the building was a lake so I had to park in the regular area where there was ice and more lakes. I must have told Waverly not to step in puddles every step she took. She stepped in a puddle anyway and proceeded to have a meltdown because her feet were cold. I almost lost it then but I held it together and we took her shoes and socks off as soon as we entered the building.

They ate and Waverly went into her class but was hesitant. She needed a little coaching. She was fine while she once she was in and Gannon was happy coloring while she had her class. Then it was time for Gannon’s class.

Egan has started crawling away to the door of the gym and he thinks it’s funny to have me chase him. This game gets extremely old after a few times. An hour of this game is enough to make anyone nuts. So we did this for a while. He played with Waverly for a little while. He also tried to get everyone’s stuff that was left on the floor. And play with the garbage can. Gannon had to use the bathroom right before his class and then during his class. Then Waverly decided to go to the bathroom on her own and not tell me where she was, giving me a mini heart attack. Egan cried a lot. Waverly dropped her mostly melted popsicle all over the floor and all over her feet. Five minutes before Gannon’s class ended she declared to the room that she needed to poop. 

Gannon came out of his class and I was so close to losing it that I hurried them to get ready. Waverly refused to put on her wet shoes. Gannon grabbed his pop and I packed all our stuff. I had to carry Egan on one hip while also carrying a tote bag full of other crap and Waverly on my back. Gannon carried his pop and his tote bag full of stuff. Someone was coming in as I was headed out and held one of the two doors open and had the decencey to tell me to “have fun” instead of perhaps opening he second door for me or offering to maybe carry the heavy bag that was slowly falling off of my arm along with both of my children. Have fun? I actually wanted to punch him in the face.

We made it to the truck. I got the kids in and realized Waverly had in fact pooped. I was so frustrated that I was pissed at her for pooping. Obviously a rational response. The ride home was a bunch of complaining about the smell of the cab and begging for windows to be put down. By the time we were five minutes away from home Gannon started sobbing about something. He was so upset I couldn’t understand him.

He dropped his pop on the floor. He was freaking out. I screamed that I didn’t care about his fucking pop. Because I didn’t. I wanted to get home before I lost it. But it was too late. I had known an hour earlier I wasn’t going to keep it together today. I screamed the entire time we drove down our street. I was still screaming at them when I pulled in the driveway. I got out of the truck and stood outside for a few seconds, listening to my three children screaming in the truck, and I called my husband. 

The problem is when you are so disappointed in yourself that you feel like vomiting there is nobody in the world who will make you feel better. I hung up on him because I was actually mad at him too. Because instead of helping me this morning he had to work. Again, very rational of me. I didn’t want to talk to him, really, but I had thought it might help. It didn’t. 

I ripped the kids out of the truck. I half carried Waverly and then dropped her on the front stairs. Literally. She fell to the cement and immediately started crying harder. I didn’t mean to drop her so I became further than rage. Whatever that ugly part is that comes after rage is the worst. I basically pushed them through the door and screamed some more.I realized  Waverly’s water bottle was left at the gym and blamed her because I asked her to get it and she didn’t. She isn’t even three yet so again, another rational response.

I left them all crying in the living room. I walked away from them for maybe a minute. They were crying so hard they were gagging. All three of them. Because of me.

Because. Of. Me. 

I changed Waverly. I took off Egan’s sweatshirt. I took a deep breath and I apologized to each of my children. I looked at them. I held their face in my hands. I told them how wrong I was to act like that and how sorry I was for being awful. I kissed them all. I went to get their lunch and started sobbing. Then I felt one small hand rubbing my back. Then another. I sat on the floor and cried while Gannon and Waverly consoled me. They told me it was okay to be upset and told me the loved me. They rubbed my back and sat with me until I stopped crying. I told them again how sorry I was. Waverly started crying and we talked about it more.

I had gone 32 days without yelling. And I’m back to zero today. It is so lonely to be here. I know it was a bad moment and a bad moment doesn’t make me a bad mother. I know that my kids love me. But I also know I failed today. I didn’t only fail them, I failed ME. I made myself a promise and I broke it. My heart is broken.

And please, people who read this, if you ever see someone carrying a child on one hip with another child riding piggy back, a heavy tote bag falling off a shoulder and one more child in front of them, don’t tell them to “have fun” and neglect to even open both doors for them. At LEAST do that. And if you feel like really changing the way their day is going? Offer them help to their vehicle. Don’t be a shitty human being.

Thanks for being here.

2 thoughts on “Thirty two days. 

  1. Sounds like only a saint would of held it together, not sure I would of lasted as long as you! I really thought that motherhood would make me super human. Nope I am still just human with more responsibilties and no superpowers. P.s thirty two days is amazing acheivement!

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