You have to be careful with your kids feelings.
3 day weekend, and it was a rough one. My emotions were running high, some unforseen expenses definitely put a damper on anything fun, and I wore myself out Saturday working in the basement with brother. By Monday I just wanted to be left alone, just some peace and quiet. I would go outside to talk on the phone, the boys would follow me. I’d go in my room, one of them would go and try and hide under my bed from the other. Like I was this close to being that mom who locked herself in the bathroom for some alone time! I completely sympathize with the women who do that, because I was definitely there yesterday.
Later in the evening, the boys were playing video games in the basement and I very quietly creeped down the hall to the back door, avoiding the creaky spots in the floor. I eased open the back door and for petes sake I literally tiptoed out onto the back porch. It was dusk and getting ready to storm on top of it. I wanted to feel the breeze and the falling temperatures and watch the storm roll in. And get some nicotine while I was at it. I eased my ass carefully down on the top step if the porch, looked up at the darkening sky, and took a deep breath. I genuinely enjoy storms, and watching them come in is this side if magic for me. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
And the back door opened.
My head must have turned like the exorcist when I heard that sound, and I practically hissed the word “no” at Matthew. And this look of hurt crossed his maturing face and he just shook his head. “You know, you’re really mean to me sometimes,” he told me and quietly shut the door back.
3 inches tall. That’s how I felt.
The thing if it is, I felt like a broken record all day. “Get out of my room,” “can’t I just have 5 minutes?” “Why can’t I even pee in peace?!” “Stop eating your lunch stuff for snacks!” And I guess that door opening was just the last straw.
I felt like an asshole regardless.
I am a single mom and I work full time, as I’ve stated. I was busy on Saturday, even though I took some time with them in the evening. Sunday I was sore and tired. Monday was. . . Well, it was a rough day. I’m sure all my boys wanted was momma’s attention, and instead I was pushing them away. My poor boys.
I took some time this morning to sit down with Matt and explain that sometimes Mom’s need a break too, and I apologized for my behavior. Yes. I apologized to my twelve year old for being an asshole. I know that some may view this as unnecessary, or being too soft, or whatever you want to call it. But I hurt his feelings, and despite the fact that they were on my nerves, I could have handled it better. My job as a parent does not end simply because I am having a bad day or I am tired. That’s the fucking facts. And it is not their fault, either. So yes. I apologized to my 12 year old. Because he deserved an apology.
He forgot his project today for social studies and I was five minutes late getting to work because I ran it up to the school for him. And he text me to thank me for bringing it to him when he left school.
Respect is earned. Not just from adults, but children too. I hurt his feelings yesterday and I apologized today, and now we’re on equal ground again.
Extra hugs for my boys tonight. I’m lucky to have them.