As I type this, it is nearly 7 PM on Thursday evening (03.06.2014). I am pseudo-sacked out on the couch, with a bag of frozen peas on my head. The boys are off to a Cub Scout meeting with the Hubby and Myriam is hovering over me, armed with a thermometer, a Santa hat stethoscope and a click-y pen.
My sinus infection from over a year ago has reared its ugly head again. No, it never went away. My head hurts and Dr. Myriam has prescribed the peas for the headache and is in the process of tattooing my arm with her click-y pen shots. She thinks I will pull through.
I also don't have a voice, at least not much of one. It's partly from the sinus infection but mostly it's because I'm a terrible parent sometimes. I spent the entire evening yelling at my children.
I yelled at them to stop flopping around.
I yelled at them to stop fighting with each other.
I yelled at them to stop yelling at each other. Yes, I see the irony.
I yelled at them to go to their rooms because the afore mentioned yelling did no good.
I'm a yeller. I hate that I do it. Period. I feel guilty about it. I'm certain that I'm doing irrevocable, therapy necessitating damage. At the very least, I've obviously done significant harm to everyone's hearing because no seems to hear a word I say!
In the midst of the getting dinner ready, getting homework done, getting boys dressed in scouting uniforms, finding scouting uniforms, Logan crawls up onto my lap and lays his head in the crook of my neck and says, "I'm glad you're our mom, mom." "Really," I say, "and why is that?" "Because you are nice to us and take good care of us," he replies.
Maybe I'm not so bad at this parenting thing.
- The Mommy
- Podunk, Kansas
- Hi and welcome to my blog. "Because I'm..." is the story of how I balance life with multiple children with multiple diagnoses: autism, bi-polar, learning disabilities and pissy attitudes to name a few, a burgeoning urban farmstead, and budding photography career. Yeah, it's all coming up crazy 'round here!
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