I’m not the most patient of people.
I’m also not very good at hiding my true feelings.
So I struggle with not losing it with my children. This is especially true when I’m feeling the pressure from work, rushing around, meeting deadlines or just fed up.
Today, however, was my daughter’s 7th Birthday. It coincided with a particularly tricky day for me as well.
In order to watch her open her presents this morning, I had to go into work late and I decided to mark my calendar as being “at the doctors”. I dashed in, attended 7 meetings during the day and then had to get away by 3pm. Mr40 had a casting today and TM had been booked in for an extra day at nursery and Pickle had to go to the nursery after school because I wouldn’t be back in time. I then thought I’d “work from home” for a bit and then take Pickle, TM and one of her school friends out for dinner as a birthday treat. It meant leaving work at 4.30pm (1 hour early).
I picked them up at 3.30pm though, full of smiles. I refused to get cross about anything. I didn’t want to ruin her birthday.
TM fell asleep when we got home, I didn’t get cross. I bribed him to wake up and stay awake.
His clothes were caked in mud and it dropped all over the floor. I didn’t get cross.
I needed to log on to work but couldn’t for over 30 minutes. I didn’t get cross.
Pickle and her friend took way to long getting changed to go out. I didn’t get cross.
All of them took too long to get in the car. I didn’t get cross
I ended up going inside about 3 times to get things I’d forgotten. TM refused to eat the meal at the restaurant. He cried a lot and had a few hissy fits. Pickle hurt herself on a straw and cried far too long.
I was like Mary Poppins!
So I thought I’d post on here about how I’d managed to hold it together and why I couldn’t do it more often.
However, whilst writing this, Pickle popped up on the stairs and I told her to go to bed and not mess about because I’d been very good today and hadn’t lost it.
“yes you did” she cried.
“No I didn’t” I replied.
“yes, when you had to do my seatbelt at nursery”.
Sigh. I had been a teeny weeny bit exasperated, but hadn’t raised my voice or got cross or said anything bad. I’d just said that it would be nice if she could do it herself.
There is no hope for me.