Grumpapotomus

I don't know if it's the moon phase of That Time of the Month, but I've been a little short with the boys this week. I've raised my voice more times than I'd like to admit. And last night I did something horrible. Beyond horrible. Not only did I yell at Finn, I stormed away from him and slammed a door behind me. I immediately realized what an ass I was being and ran back to appologize to him, but the damage was done. He was crying.
No. Sobbing. How unfair of me! How selfish of me! He doesn't understand why Mama is acting like this! Hell, Mama doesn't understand why she's acting like this! What an idiot I am.

I grabbed him and hugged him as tight as I could crying "I'm SO sorry baby. I'm SO SO sorry."

The great thing about my 4 year old is that he forgives quickly and unconditionally. "That's okay Mama. Can you turn the TV on please?"

I read something yesterday about a woman in her late 30's struggling through therapy still trying to get over what her parents "did to her" as a child. She didn't go in to many specifics, and I'm assuming it was much worse than just being yelled at. But it made me think about how my actions, my impatience and short temper will affect my children over time. I don't remember either of my parents ever yelling at me. I'm sure they did because I was a pain in the ass, but I don't have any hauting memories of it. Most of the time I think I'm prety even keeled. But it's those moments of darkness that I need to work on.

For today, I promise to make extra time for the boys to do what boys need to do. Turn over a rock to look for the bugs. Go down the slide just one more time. Pick more dandelions. Nothing's more important than these beautiful creatures that love me almost as much as they love turning over rocks and splashing in puddles.