I don’t pretend to be the perfect mom. I know I am lacking in the areas of patients and sympathy among other things and I fear I may have ruined my children.
These past few months have been rough in the parenting department. I definately have a lot to repair. I am feeling better which is good, but along with that has come more responsability. My tweedles are haveing a hard time accepting the authority that I abdicated just months earlier. They fight more, because I’m not keeping them occupied with fun things to do. They lie more because they are afraid of the ugly screaming mommy. They steal more (borrow my stuff or my husbands stuff without asking) because they had to fend for themselves over a long period of time. Lets just say the complaint department is full and spilling into the hallway with the list of things I need to fix, which totally stinks because I am already burried beneith 6 months of filing and taxes still need to be filed.
My children are good boys. They are polite and sensitive and I want to keep them that way. They, however want to be independent. That is normal. I think they should be independent in some areas like cutting their own food, picking up their own clothes, doing their homework, etc, etc. They, have enjoyed for the past 6 months the freedom of watching tv, eating what they want, entertaining themselves and don’t want to give that up. They have manged to stay alive while living with an absenti mommy, (a feat unto itself, they are only 7 and 5). It is this contradiction in wills that resulted in the MOTHER OF ALL TANTRUMS!
There were tears of frustration and exhaustion. If I could have flopped myself on the floor and pounded my fists I probably would have, but then I would have been high centered and unable to get up. So I just aggresively threw food into the garbage and slammed drawers all while mumbling “What buisness do I have bringing another child into the world when I can’t even handle the two I got?”
The boys took it pretty well and were soon helping me sweep the floor. They got their PJs on and I read them a story from the Friend. Way to guilt trip myself for my unrully behavior because the story was about a child who’s mom died and how she wasn’t so unhappy because “Families are forever” and she would see her mom again. Althought the evening ended well I’m still embarrassed about how I behaved.
I wonder where my boys get it from?