It was one of those days.
The kind where you feel like you’ve yelled at the kids more than not.
I was in the oldest one’s room, picking up toys, calling for her to come help. When I found them in the living room I was
met with the boxes I wanted to use for a craft, completely flattened, and pieces of styrofoam everywhere. (Where did they even find styrofoam, anyway?)
Instead of crafting, I found myself admonishing them for destroying the boxes and making a mess with the styrofoam.
They started playing fairies and Hot Wheels together, and then suddenly they were coming to blows with one another. And when they weren’t fighting, it seemed they were jumping on the couch or finding something else to destroy.
Then my husband woke up (he was working nights this week), and asked how our day had been. I guess the look on my face said it all. He decided it was a night to go get dinner.
It was just one of those days.
And the mom-guilt was high.
I don’t like feeling like I’ve spent the day yelling at my babies. I don’t like feeling like a failure, like I should have found some way to entertain them that would have eliminated all the fighting. But that’s how I felt.
And then my husband, who deserved a home-cooked meal, woke at 5:15 to nothing on the stove.
Enough to bring tears to my eyes and make me just want to curl up and forget the day ever happened.
It’s days like that, that I have to remind myself we are all human. We all have our limits. And tomorrow is a new day.
What about dinner?
Back to that guilt. I wanted to end our day better, so we loaded the kids in the car, and we picked up dinner to take to the park.
What gives you the most mom-guilt? How do you deal with it?