Not My Finest Day

Today was just one of those days.  You know the kind.  The kind where  you spend a lot of the day wishing you could rewind that moment and that one.  The kind of day when you wish you could hit the button on your alarm clock and just start from the beginning with one declaration: “Do-over!!”.  The kind of day when you realize that little “care-for-an-egg-for-the-weekend-project” in junior high did nothing to prepare you for all that real parenthood entails. 

I hate days like this.  Days when the voices in my head tell me, you are completely screwing your kids up and you best be putting deposits into their future therapy fund daily.  I can see it now. . . Chanelle is sitting on a couch across from a therapist who is wearing dark-rimmed glasses and has a pen tucked behind her ear and a pen in her hand as she nods and takes notes on Chanelle’s traumatic child-rearing. . . I don’t know what happened, she’ll tell her therapist.  One moment we were sitting at the table making bracelets and the next she went completely ballistic. 

It went something like that.

Chanelle took her bracelet-making kit out this afternoon and asked if I would help her.  I looked at the clock and saw we had about an hour before dinner and told her we should have enough time.  We loaded our materials onto the kitchen table and while Chanelle selected her bracelet colors, I refreshed myself on the “how-to’s” of the kit.  To my left Meadow sat and observed.

Oh, and she screamed.  I’m not talking tiny baby screams. . . I’m talking blood-curdling-high-pitched-ear-piercing-I-want-your-attention-and-I-want-it-now kind of screams. 

I did my best to ignore her.  I attempted to tell her no.  I handed her a toy.  I offered her a cheese stick.  I tried again to ignore her.  She would not be ignored.  Her eyes glistened with big crocodile tears, her nose dripped like a faucet, and her mouth oozed with spit. . . until I picked her up.

Like a magic button was pressed–she turned it off.  Silence flooded the room. 

I breathed deep and soaked in the peace. 

I reached for the bracelet again and attempted the feat one-handed.  It wasn’t going to happen.  So, I did the unthinkable. . . I put Meadow down. 

Someone pressed that magic button again and without a moments hesitation those blood-curdling-ear-piercing screams filled the house again.  That’s when it happened.  I reached the end of my rope. 

I shoved the bracelet maker away, told Chanelle to forget it we aren’t going to do it, slammed my chair under the table, picked Meadow up off her chair and set her down, slammed my phone onto the counter, tugged at my hair from the roots, slammed a few cupboards shut, opened the refrigerator just so I could slam it shut, and picked up my phone just so I could hear it crash back down to the counter-top again. 

Suddenly, the room was silent again and somehow the girls had found their way to another part of the house.  We’ll just refer to this as: Not My Finest Moment

In my defense, this was our entire day.  My littlest seemed to want to test the full range of her vocal chords and after ten hours of those screams–I’d had enough.  (I know, I know, no excuse.)

It was about that time that the email with the subject line, Five Mistakes Many Mom’s Make, dinged into my phone.  When I saw the article was about discipline mistakes, I immediately deleted–obviously, I’ve got this area under control.  Okay, really, I didn’t need anymore guilt at that moment.

In all reality, I wanted to throw the Loopdedoo across the room and see it shatter to pieces. I thought that might calm my mood.  Or at the very least, I was sure it would feel good.  Tonight, I’m celebrating the fact that I didn’t do that.  (Small victories, right?) Instead, I calmed myself down and when the girls braved my presence again, I offered my apologies and explained that we will make the bracelets on another day.  Chanelle responded cheerfully, Okay!  Maybe when Meadow is napping!”

She is light years beyond me in the “chill” department.

I write about this tonight only because I want to keep it real.  Our little household has a lot of great moments.  Moments of laughter and celebration and memory-making moments.  Times that I don’t want to forget and stories that I want to carry with me for the rest of my life.


But we also have our moments that I would rather forget. Moments that
(thankfully) can’t be captured in a single image but are real moments in
the lives of real imperfect people living real imperfect lives.  I
realize that sometimes these (not so pretty) moments get lost behind
pretty pictures and cute stories. 

Today was not my finest day. 

Sometimes, motherhood can be lonely and isolating.  Emails entitled “5 Mistakes Many Mom’s Make” don’t help the situation.  Maybe that’s why writing about it helps.  I do and will continue to mess up.  I’ll behave like a five two year old and humbly offer apologies time and time again. 

I think that’s okay.

I guess in the end my biggest hope is that our good moments far outweigh the not so good moments. . .

And all of our moments are colored by the love that we share. A love that goes so deep there truly are no words. . .

  • Sassytimes - March 20, 2013 - 6:02 pm

    Oh Summer…I have these days far too often. Thank you for this post! Chanelle reminds me SO much of Sophia. I'm going nuts, slamming stuff around, throwing a tantrum as big as Vincent and Evelyn's and then, there she is…4 years old, saying "no biggie…whatever" And then, that's when I crumble and fall apart and cry and feel like the worst mom ever. Why can't I just say that? Why can't I just tune out the screaming and crying and tantrums and think of another day? They teach us SO much, right?

    You are a GREAT mom! ReplyCancel

    • Summer - March 21, 2013 - 12:32 am

      I KNOW you KNOW what I'm talking about.

      I miss you, Friend. Sigh. . . ReplyCancel

  • Katy - March 20, 2013 - 6:54 pm

    Thanks for keeping it real Summer! I have these days far more often than I would like to admit…and I don't even have a 2 year old:)ReplyCancel

    • Summer - March 21, 2013 - 12:33 am

      Thank YOU, Katy, for reminding me that I'm not alone. ReplyCancel

  • Katy - March 20, 2013 - 6:54 pm

    I mean 1 year old…ReplyCancel

  • Kendra George - March 21, 2013 - 2:51 am

    Laughing out loud!! Especially the part about the repetitive frig door and phone slamming…unfortunately my last 3 days have felt and looked this way, my poor little ones are wondering where the sweet, play with me mommy went…my energy for anything extra has been 0 this week and i'm not sure why…except that my kids are leaving friday to spend with memaw and papaw (eric's parents) til thursday, so maybe my brain and mothering, nurturing side of me shut off about 4 days early…not proud of my "not finest day" as well, but thanks for helping me to feel I am not alone!ReplyCancel

  • Randa - March 21, 2013 - 8:33 pm

    My 2 year old loves to scream when he doesn't like what is happening. So what do I do to tell him it's. Not okay to scream like that? I scream at him. Yea, not the best tactic. I think mommys should get time outs. You know, 1 minute for each year old. I could really use a 33 minute time out. Several times a day. ReplyCancel

    • Summer - March 22, 2013 - 12:44 am

      That's a fabulous idea, Randa. I'm totally calling a 34 minute time out tomorrow. AWESOME. ReplyCancel

  • Wrestling Kitties - March 26, 2013 - 5:17 pm

    Thank you for sharing, Summer.

    I feel this more days then I would like to admit. It is tough. You love these little ones so much, but sometimes you just can't listen to one more tantrum, crying while holding your leg and not letting you move, pointing for something you can't understand, taking something that shouldn't be taken. It can just be too much sometimes.

    Right now Henry gets into EVERYTHING and saying "NO" 20 times in a 5 minute period or even less or taking the remotes away and listening to crying just gets to me. I lose my cool and cry about it later. And like you said….it IS ok.

    It is funny, Henry's time outs are just as much for him as they are for me. We both sit in our corners, relax, then give kisses and life is back to normal! You know, for like 15 minutes 🙂

    BUT, I think that is why I am so grateful for my friends and the blogs because I can take comfort in the fact that this happens to all of us and the support we get from each other is priceless.

    Hang in there! Tomorrow is always a new day 🙂ReplyCancel

  • Anonymous - March 27, 2013 - 2:58 am

    Summer,
    I am certain that every mother, everywhere struggles with days like these more often that we want to admit. Your courage to face it head on is inspiring to me and many others. Thanks for keeping it real!
    Love you friend and neighbor:)
    MarieReplyCancel

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