There are days where I’m perfectly fine, normal and can conquer the world. And then there is yesterday. I was broken by the end of yesterday. So broken. I can’t think, I can’t handle the whinging, the noise, recalcitrant kids and the coup d’état of “you hate us” breaks me even more. I don’t hate them, of course I don’t. But I hate their behaviour and most of all I hate my reaction to their behaviour. I started crying and pleading with them to just STOP for 20 minutes. Please. Just. Stop. They look at me and start laughing. What is that?
I demand they read a book but they really don’t like reading. Part of it is they’re always egging each other on; wrestling and jumping on each other – not silently of course. And then it ends in tears, always the smallest one’s. So I ask them to separate and keep reading but one will always annoy the other and it starts again. After ten minutes… “muuuum, it’s been 20 minutes”. No it fucking hasn’t. And then I just can’t. Because I’m breaking.
They go outside until the inevitable happens and the ball goes over the fence (always on the side of the most rotten of neighbours) or one of them flies so hard off his scooter it’s tears and no amount of cajoling will get him back on for the day.
So back inside and cartoons. Except it’s Spongebob Squarepants and that breaks me even more. I detest that cartoon more than any other. I turn it off to howls of protests. But I just can’t.
By now I’m sick of me and in such pain inside. I’m confused and stuck and can’t even summon enough energy to go to my running group, which would be so good for me. The wind had died down, the rain had passed and there was a calm period which would have been perfect for a hard running session. But I just couldn’t.
Yesterday was a failure in every way. Except the spaghetti bog I made, that was awesome.