My 2 biggest triggers to feeling like yelling are being very tired and being in a huge mess. That's what my life is like today, though. My normal bedtime is 9ish, but this week, I've been up close to midnight nearly every night. Plus, I wake up at 3, feeling tired, but not being able to go back to sleep and I'm usually up until 4:30 or 5 before I finally doze off again. My point being, I am tired. I'm beyond tired. I'm at the point where if I were a toddler or a preschooler, I'd throw myself down on the floor kicking and screaming about whatever it was that I wanted that I wasn't getting. Instead, because I'm a mature adult, I tend to lash out. The Doctor cooked tonight and as always it was delicious. The mess that was the kitchen, though, was not. It's not his fault. . . the kitchen was a mess before he cooked too. I was out all day and when I got back, I finally gave in to B's pleas to watch "Once Upon a Time" and got into bed with her for some fairytale time.
When I emerged for dinner, all I saw was the mess. I didn't see that the kids were eating, I didn't see that The Doctor had portioned me out some, but I did see the messy messiness of mess. I didn't yell, though. I ate and then I started cleaning. M came over to me holding her bowl, looked at me and said, "You should say 'Thank you', you know. I am taking my bowl, after all." I looked at her and in a voice dripping with sarcasm, I said, "Oh! You're right! Thank you SO much M! Thank you SO much for taking your bowl!" Afterwards I though, "So, I didn't yell, but how is being so sarcastic any better?" It's not.
Later, I decided, it's easier to find something to laugh about than to be all upset. They say it takes more muscles to frown than smile and I truly believe it takes more energy to be mad than happy. I am so lucky. I have 3 beautiful curly girlies, a sexy man who knows how to take care of me (and cook! That's SO important!) and a great life. A messy kitchen is going to make me feel rotten? I'm bigger than that.
The tricky part is going to be remembering this. I got a lot of things from my Dad. I have his looks, his lack of a singing voice and his ability to make friends every where I go. Really great stuff. Unfortunately, I also got his temper. Sometimes I feel like that sour part of me cancels out the really great stuff. I need to learn that a messy kitchen is temporary and just as I don't want my children to have lasting memories of me yelling, I also don't want them to have lasting memories of my voice dripping with sarcasm. Something new to work on. . . Yay.
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