The day started out like any other. Diapers, breakfast, clean-up (lots of clean up with with a baby and a toddler), laundry (lots of that, too), an easy errand since Bubby loves to "go-go," and it is easy enough to oblige. After that there was playing with Bugaboo while Bubby wrestled me (his new thing is to tackle/climb/attack me while I am on the ground) and lunch. The boys seemed content enough, so I needed to get a new potato recipe into the crockpot to have with dinner tonight. And then all heck broke loose.
Bubby would not stop opening the dishwasher and trying to get things out of it - I tried flicking his hand, I tried continuously putting him in his crib for a time-out, I tried turning on the tv to Sesame Street - it didn't matter. His plan to test mommy and slow her down on her task would not be thwarted. Simultaneously to all of this Bugaboo is crying loudly for no apparent reason - he has been fed, he has been changed. I tried the boppy pillow in a variety of positions, the bouncy seat - nothing worked. I chopped potatoes and onions angrily while every two minutes trying to deal with one of the dynamic duo.
At one point I yelled something I never once yelled during my teaching career.
and continued chopping, loudly, taking my aggrivation out more on the veggies than my children. I was determined to ignore the crying from the bouncy seat and the yelling from the crib as I threw in ingredients, melted, measured, stirred. Splatters of milk and flour hit the stove. With the lid finally on, I cleaned up the mess, and my children, by this point were (relatively) calm.
Why could they not have been calm just fifteen minutes before??
As the mess of my kitchen decreased, the guilty feelings of my attitude increased. I always thought I would be the mom who never wanted to yell, and here I was, less than two years a mommy, and I yelled. At my sweet babies.
I took Bubby out of his crib and brought Bugaboo into their room to play again together. Bubby brought me a book (and another and another), each time sitting on my lap and snuggling up, as Bugaboo looked up from next to us to hear the story too, both of them treating me as if I never screwed up.
Giving me what I did not deserve.