Okay, most mornings go smooth at my house, but not always. Today was pajama day at Brady’s school and I joked with my husband that that should shave 30 minutes off my morning routine if I don’t have to worry about him getting dressed. Yeah, I was wrong.
He was the first one up, waking on his own a little after six, giving us over an hour before we had to be out the door. While getting myself ready, waking up his brother, tending to the baby, I must have asked Brady to get changed no less than 10 times. He wanted to wear a different pair of pajamas than what he slept in. At some point, he managed to get himself undressed and he wandered around the house in his underwear for a half hour. With ten minutes left until we had to start putting shoes on, I sent the partially clothed boy into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I was busy in the next room with the baby but could hear his toothbrush running but it didn’t sound right. It’s amazing how tuned into noises I have become, just the slightest variation sets off alarm bells in my head. I went in the bathroom to discover instead of brushing his teeth, he was brushing his bath toys, toothpaste everywhere. I lost it.
“Brady, put on your damn pajamas!” Huge mommy fail. It was kind of a small victory, though, because what I actually wanted to say was a whole lot worse. Ugh. I hate it when I get to that place and immediately regretted my loss of temper . It doesn’t happen often, but it does, and I guess that makes me human.
These little people, they watch us and model our behavior and this morning I wasn’t the kind of model I want to be. When I came home from work, he was happy and chattering away, eager to tell me about his day. My temper tantrum from this morning was completely forgotten, at least by him. Kids are so forgiving and give their love unconditionally with no grudges to be held. It has the added effect of making me feel even crummier about my bad behavior.
Clearly I’m not perfect, but I strive to be. Tomorrow is a new day and another chance and when I feel myself getting to that place where I’ve not only lost control of my son, but also myself, I shall put myself in a timeout. Or if it is after five, I shall have a glass of wine.