Highway to Yell

I became “that asshole” this weekend – the one yelling at her kids in the front yard.

I don’t know what was going on with me.  Maybe it’s the weeks without a break from kids and/or work.  Maybe it’s hormones.  Maybe it’s trying to do too much.  Regardless, I was an asshole.

Saturday morning started well enough.  Before sunrise, I had made pizza from scratch and had 2 loaves of banana bread in the oven.  Like everyone, we’ve been battling the weather trying to get some things done around the yard.  I was hell-bent to make some progress Saturday.  I figured the kids could play in the driveway while I worked in the flower bed.  It didn’t work out so well.  They ran amok.  I couldn’t pull a weed or dig a tiny hole for a plant without having to grab one of them from the brink of danger.  I yelled.  I popped Felix’s hand when he wouldn’t stop grabbing for things like scissors or ant piles.  Every word that came out of my mouth left via clenched teeth.

It was just one of those weekends where everything felt harder than it needed to be.  Nobody was doing anything especially awful.  I was just a throbbing raw nerve.  Felix was whining.  Stella was affectionate – suffocatingly so.

Felix was feeling the angst.  Here he angrily cries at his blocks for coming apart when he pulled on them - over and over again.

Felix was feeling the angst. Here he angrily cries at his blocks for coming apart when he pulled them apart – over and over again.

Sunday  morning over ramen noodles (it’s what the kids wanted for breakfast), I asked Stella what she wanted to do.  She said she wanted to go to the aquarium.  Maybe it was guilt over my behavior Saturday.  Maybe it was my impulse to just run away from the weed-filled bog that is our yard.  We saddled up and headed to New Orleans.

That dress....

That dress….

Perfectly outfitted for rock-climbing

Perfectly outfitted for rock-climbing

It was a good trip.  Stella had on an extra-special ensemble, including her “glasses–“ old frames of mine with the lenses popped out.  They help her see.  Her favorite part was the scuba divers.  I actually was fascinated.  How do you clean the algae off of the glass in the giant shark-infested tank?  With suction cups, a giant squeegee, and 2 other divers holding large sticks hovering on either side. Who knew?

I don't know that those sticks are robust enough for sharks.  I think I'd demand something a bit tougher....and pointier.

I don’t know that those sticks are robust enough for sharks. I think I’d demand something a bit tougher….and pointier.

Felix was riveted... Not.

Felix was riveted… Not.

Sunday wasn’t bad.  Maybe it was the aquarium.  Maybe it was my surrender to the urge to get things done.  Maybe it was the knowledge that the weekend was nearly over.

So it’s a new week now.  I’ll do my best not to be an asshole in my front yard.  I brought 2 loaves of banana bread to the office to share.  I’m going to try to be happy with what we have been able to do around our home this spring and let go of what we haven’t been able to get to; we don’t look like total hillbillies anymore and we can plant citrus next year.  Crispi will be here soon, so maybe Will and I can get a date night in.

Oh!  And my son?  Last night for the first time ever he slept through the night in his bed.

Keep swimming.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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