It's Blogapalooza hour again. This time the topic is:
"Write about a time you lost your temper or somebody lost their temper at you"
Today. I lost my temper.
It usually has something to do with my kids and having to be somewhere on time.
This morning we had to bring my oldest to Band Camp. (I know, for all the Dutch readers, this will make you think about: 'One time at band camp')
It isn't very early, it's from 10am-11am, but still we had to be there at 10am. My youngest got out off bed with the wrong leg (Dutch expression) and all he did was shouting, and say 'No!' when I asked him something.
We had to eat something before we would go there ('Why mom?'), but my youngest didn't want to eat. When he finally got at the table, he didn't want bread. He didn't want yogurt. Then he did want yogurt, but not with blueberries. He didn't want tea, but water. Then he did want tea, but only if it was 'rooibos' tea. And he just didn't want to eat.
Meanwhile my oldest son felt that there wasn't much required to make my youngest scream and shout some more, so he started to interfere. He is older, so he thinks he can tell him what to do or what not to do. ('No! You cannot!')
I almost forgot to eat something myself, so I took some wasa crackers, because that is the quickest. When my youngest shouted some more, and I looked at the clock, I felt stressed. We had to be there at 10am! So I told my youngest that he had to get dressed, then at least that was done. Of course he didn't want that either.
By that time steam was coming out of my ears. I got up, told my oldest to stop interfering and to continu eating. Then I told my youngest to go sit at our other table, so at least we could eat without his shouting. Of course he said: 'NO!!!!!' I told him to go sit on the stairs then to calm down and rethink his behavior. I told him he could come off when he felt okay again. I almost exploded, gently took his arm and helped him to the stairs. He sat down, but kept screaming and shouting at me: 'You are the worst mom ever, I hate you!'
I went back to the table and tried to eat some breakfast. Then I heard him go up the stairs. I hoped he changed his mind and was getting dressed. He came down about 10 minutes later. Not dressed and he didn't eat anything either. I told him he still had 4 minutes left to eat his yogurt and drink his tea. He sat down and began to eat and drink like he never had before. He was done before I was done. I asked him why he behaved like this and he told me he didn't know.
Then the quarrelling about who was going in their bathroom first began (Thank God we have 2 bathrooms, since we moved to the US!). I said my oldest could go first, my youngest could put his clothes on his bed. In the hallway I spoke to my oldest, about leaving his brother alone. Luckily he is ten and gets these kind of things a bit quicker then before. I finally could get dressed too.
They were ready before me and started doing the chores they do every morning. When I was done, I went into the bathroom and found one big mess from the youngest. I decided to pick my fights and to get back on this in the afternoon.
We were on time at Band Camp. 'One time at Band Camp, we actually were there on time'. (Actually we are on time every morning, but still).
After Band Camp we had lunch in the car and we drove to the senior that I always visit on Wednesdays. We played bingo with a few other female seniors. It was a lot of fun. They all have a lot of humor and love it when the boys come too. One lady even had a fight with another lady that didn't want to play bingo with kids. She told us that she got very angry and said to her that the kids were playing, no matter what she thought about that. She told me: 'we don't need her to come, if she doesn't like kids, pfff'. Every number that gets called has it's own nickname, they call out bingo way to early and when a number gets called that they don't have, the 'caller' will hear it from them.
When we got home I forgot about the mess in the bathroom. When my youngest went to bed, (my husband was putting him in bed today) I remembered the mess and asked my husband to check it. He did, and found a lot of clothes lying every where. Not only in the bathroom, but also underneath his bed and behind his bed (I hadn't cleaned his room for a week and a half, but was going to do that tomorrow).
My husband asked him why he did that, and our son started crying. Turned out he was afraid to go into the room where the laundry baskets stand. (The room that I am typing this blog in right now). It is our guestroom, so it's not really someone's space. There are just a few things standing there: a big bookcase, a desk, two guitars and a folding bed. In the walk-in closet are the laundry baskets.
My husband called me upstairs and we talked about his fear. He had been afraid to tell us, because he thought we would get angry. I told him I felt very sorry for him, because he didn't feel like he could tell us this. That he had been walking around with this feeling all alone. He started crying. We cuddled and talked some more. He also told us he had been sleeping very bad last night, that he kept waking up, but not enough to come to us.
My husband went, together with our son, into the guestroom and talked about his fear. He showed my husband exactly where he was afraid. They looked for 'monsters' together and sent everything away to the angels. After that we all felt much better. We really saw each other, smiled again.
I was making myself ready for this Blogapalooza hour and meanwhile I kept thinking: what did I do wrong? Do I get too angry too fast? Why? I do need a lot of 'me-time' and so does the rest of our household. We all are highly sensitive people, who feel and see way too much. We really need time to process what we feel and see, on our own. During this vacation-time there isn't a lot of 'me-time' for me. There is always someone that needs me.
We all have a helicopter view on things, we over-complicate things. Sometimes we forget what is really important. Each other. Our great family, consisting of 4 people, 2 dogs, 2 guinea pigs and 1 bearded dragon. That is all that matters.
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A lot of my fellow ChicagoNow bloggers, wrote about the same topic too. You can read their stories here: