My kids were all having a really bad day. Goober was teething and wouldn't stop crying because he was in pain.
It also didn't help that Princess gave him a piece of her raisin bread, which caused his eczema to
flare up. This meant that every time he rubbed his cheeks, they started bleeding (Goober has reactions like this to all types of fruit, among other things, and his poor cheeks get raw). It is impossible to stop an 11 month-old from touching his face. I know; I tried.
Princess needed a nap but refused to go to her room until Daddy came home. The littlest things were setting her off. Goober was close to her (even though he wasn't even touching her or poking her or anything). She wanted another episode of Spongebob, but it was T's turn to pick a show and he wanted Wow Wow Wubbzy. Every few minutes, she threw herself on the floor, kicking and screaming and bashing her head.
T wouldn't respect anyone's personal space. He was poking Princess, pushing Goober, and sticking his feet in my face. I have a thing with feet. I hate them. They gross me out. No one is allowed to touch my feet (goodbye, pedicures), and I don't like feet in my face. Even if they're clean. I have a lot of anxiety with feet.
I cajoled and bribed and threatened, but they wouldn't stop. I don't blame Goober for any of this. He legitimately had a right to be crying, but it was just adding to everything else in a bad way. I couldn't take it anymore.
I snapped. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I don't even think real words were coming out of my mouth. I grabbed a pillow and repeatedly his the wall with it. I stomped my feet. I threw a temper tantrum.
The kids were shocked. Goober looked horrified as he chewed the comforter. Princess stopped and stared at me. T came over and put his finger to his lips and tried to shush me. My 3 1/2 year-old was being more of an adult than I was.
I calmed down. I sat on the bed. I apologized to my kids. T and Princess calmly went into their room, shut the door, and took naps. I gave Goober some Tylenol and a bottle, and he went to sleep. Finally I had peace and quiet.
This post was inspired by a prompt from Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. I chose a mom fail moment.