So, last night I’d had enough. ENOUGH, I say. Tired of trying to be adult and rational and all that stuff that goes with losing someone and knowing someone else is very, very sick and having to pretend “I’m okay.” Tired of making certain everything that needs to be done is done or at least been given due notice that it needed to be done whether it was or not. Anyway, I was tired of being, as my mother calls it, “the tall one.” And my daughters decided to wage war in the bathroom. And I’d had ENOUGH, I tell you, E. N. O. U. G. H.
And my daughters started squabbling and I lost my effing temper. And then I noticed that the windows were wide open. So I pulled my effing temper back under control. But it wasn’t difficult to be quiet. Kids 2 and 3 skeedadled to their rooms as the f-bomb landed for the umpteenth time. Kid 1 was still in the bathtub, where the war started.
I was looking for a fight. I see that now. Because even though I was embarrassed by losing my temper so outrageously, I felt better–immediately. It was like the release valve had been opened. But I should not have taken it out on them. Kid 3 came out for a kiss. I gave it to her, along with an apology and an explanation. She kissed me again, cuz she knew I needed it. And then went to bed without another word. I went in to Kid 2’s room and apologized to her, as well. Even though neither Kid 2 or 3 were the target of my rage, they were the unintended victims and they deserved to know that mom was back from her momentary insanity.
Kid 1 exited the bathroom, ready to ignore me while staring me down. “Hold up,” I said to her, not yelling. I apologized for the carpet f-bombing and, once again, said I was wrong. She thanked me. I tried to smile. I watched Boston Legal. I felt better. And worse. And better. And worse again.
I’m tired. Really tired. But the world spins on, with “pro-life” presidents who, I guess, believe that life ends at birth because we sure don’t want all those un-aborted babies getting “free” health care. Heaven forbid parents have some help providing basic medical care to their children. Because we all know that those parents in the lower middle class are rolling in disposable income. No child left behind, my hiney. More like no fetus left behind. Fetus, we like. Live child with asthma, not so much.
Is it a wonder I rage. I just need to get better at directing it at the appropriate channels.