Mother Teresa I Aint

Kate and Sarah, though frequently delightful, were horrible last night. We got off to a cute start this morning so I was excited. The cuteness faded oh-so quickly and the girls wore down the last of my already somewhat lacking patience until I found myself yelling. I don't yell much but I mean, what else do you to with a kid who, when told to do something repeatedly just stands there staring at you? So, "Kate please go put your shoes on." escalated to "SHOES ON NOW!", I'm not proud to say.

When I rounded the corner toward the front of the house from the kitchen I once again noted that Kate was not putting her shoes on. Last I'd seen her she was headed up the stairs after I'd yelled at her not to go back upstairs. That was the last straw. What was she even doing up there when we were so obviously on our way out the door?!? I stood at the foot of the stairs and cut loose with my most thunderous yell that I typically reserve for the dog when I catch her in some ruinous act. "KATE! GET DOWN HERE NOW" I bellowed. Silence. I stared up at the stairs, preparing to drop all the stuff I was holding and go rain holy terror upon that child. I took a step back and as I turned to lay down my burden I saw a tiny, pale 4-year-old standing quietly behind me. Shoes on. "Oops" I said. She remained silent and wide-eyed.

As I unbuckled Sarah's carseat at daycare I said to her "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier." In fact, I'd made Sarah cry. She nodded her acceptance of my apology. When I got around to Kate's side of the car, before I could utter a word she said "Are you going to say you're sorry for yelling at me? You were scary!"

I'd like to say I felt guilty all the way to work for upsetting my kids, but I didn't. Instead, I felt delighted to finally know I can evoke fear in those two seemingly impervious gremlins. I was sorry for losing my patience with them, but I can't promise I won't do it again.