I am feeling rusty.
After several days on my back and a couple more sick with what seemed to be the stomach flu, and countless little pity parties, I am rusty at this mom stuff.
Emotionally, that is. I found myself yelling this morning right out of the gates, and feeling both ashamed and unable to stop. I berated myself silently and took it out on my kids outwardly, and finally broke down crying.
Then I asked for help.
I'm learning (again and again) how important is what you do when you think you don't know what to do. When you really don't know how to summon the strength--physical, emotional, or both--to face what the day holds. Whether it's because you gave birth through your nose a few days ago and then got the stomach flu, or because you're exhausted, or because you've had a baby, or it's just a difficult day/week/month/year!
These are the times I feel define me. Do I go on behaving like an ogre? Or do I let go of my frustration, guilt, and desire to be in control of it all, and ask for help?
I sent Phill a message. Something like...."I can't do this today. HELP." His response, well-measured and compassionate, was to say a prayer, apologize, start over, and forgive. (Myself and everyone else involved in the little fiasco) So I did. I prayed. I cried some more. And then I held Jaxon and tearfully apologized for yelling, and did my best to mend our bond.
And then he was calm.
And I was calm.
And we were happy again.
I love second chances. Twentieth chances, too. I don't like that I need them....but I'm glad I have them.
Afterthought: Do I sound....preachy? Presumptuous? Smug? Not my intention....