Crash and burn

Oy.  I could use other words but I'll stick with oy.  Sort of sums it up.  It's been another long week full of ups and downs...seems like more downs than ups this week.  I'm start with tonight then get reflective on the rest of the week in another post....maybe it will make tonight make more sense.  

So....today was a snitty sort of day - lots of comments from TK about my mothering skills, and none of them complimentary.  I tried hard not to say the things I wanted to say, and did pretty well (to a point....keep reading).  We went to a dear friend's house for dinner, where TK abandoned her manners, interrupted, demanded attention, and made somewhat rude remarks. Luckily this is a very forgiving and compassionate friend, so I was only mildly mortified.  Things were okay when we got home, but we were late getting to bed. 

Right before bed she was messing with one of the cats and got scratched.....fuse lit!  She threw an orange at him (missed, but now I have to figure out where the dang orange went).  I went to get a washcloth and soap to clean the cut. It's cold out , so it takes a while for the water to warm up. About two minutes later TK yells, "Why on earth is this taking you so long?"  I said I was trying to get it warm and she yelled, "I DON'T NEED IT WARM. JUST GIVE IT TO ME!"  So now my fuse is lit too.  Yep, it shouldn't have been, and this was really no big deal, but I was just in the place where I was done. Blame if on being tired and achy with fibro flare, blame it on having her home (yet again) with me most of the week as we work this school transition, or just blame it on the fact that I was just tired of it.....whatever you pick, the result is the same.  I blew.  I dropped the washcloth in her lap, told her to wash the scratch, get her pajamas on and get into bed (and yes, I was yelling).  She immediately rose to the occasion with, "Mom, why are you being so mean?"   I told her I was tired of the unappreciative behavior and the attitude, she needed to go to bed and I was DONE.  Then I closed her door (not quite slamming it , but darn close) and stomped across the house.  (Temper tantrum much?  Yep, I admit it. Not proud of it, but I promised myself I'd be honest in my blog, and that includes my screwups.)

Of course she came out and sat on the kitchen floor sobbing. I ignored her ---- yes, I know it was childish and just made things worse, but I really didn't care.  It doesn't happen often, but tonight was one of those (luckily) rare occasions where I knew I was blowing it and just kept driving that bus off the cliff. 

I did regroup (somewhat) enough to read to her and pat her to sleep.  I told her I was really sorry she was sad but that a lot of what she said really hurt my feelings.  I think she was already asleep, so I was talking to myself.  

I really hate the days where I am just feeling done and don't care how it goes.  They are blessedly rare but inevitably end up with me feeling guilty for blowing it.  (Right now I'm just still done and not yet feeling guilty, but I'm sure it will kick in tomorrow....or the next day when she is at school and I have a chance to breathe. Of course tomorrow is a day off because heaven knows we need another long weekend!)

Rest assured you will blow it too. And equally assuredly there will be days when you are truly utterly and completely done. And no, you don't ever get to be, so give yourself grace for when you are. This calling is exhausting, and there are days it will break you.  But there's this amazing super glue called grace that makes us whole enough to try again another day.

So yeah, I need to dig up a big old pile of that super glue grace to get past tonight.  Luckily tomorrow is another chance to do it better. Hopefully I will.