The Mind of a Child

I am having a bit if a rough time at parenting lately. We’ve had sicknesses and housework piling up and loooong days where it seems one kid is crying at all times, which is against the rules, by the way. And they are starving but don’t want to eat anything but cheezits and strawberries and nutella sandwiches, and they find every possible thing they shouldn’t be playing with & play with it, or they want to do play doh the second I finally sit down & relax, and if they aren’t begging for food or breaking lamps or melting down because I took away the can opener, they are running around like hooligans. I don’t even know what a hooligan sounds like. But surely my house is overrun with them.

The day to day chaos starts to take its toll and  I grow weary of redirecting & correcting and trying to be rational with a 3 year old (HA!) and then comes the yelling. Or the frustration that comes when I want to yell but I just yelled 5 seconds ago so I keep my mouth shut, figuring they don’t listen to anything I say anyhow so why bother?

Then the end if the day comes and they start to wind down, the chaos is manageable. So I sit with each child and tell them I’ve had a bad mommy day. I ask them to forgive me.

And do you know what they do?

They forgive me and give me hugs and kisses, no questions asked. They tell me they didn’t think I had a bad day. They snuggle in for their bedtime stories and profess their love for me, forgetting completely the hot mess I was all day. They don’t even remember.

I’m not sure why this would come as such a surprise, though. They can’t even remember that Ritz are for eating, not crushing on the floor. Why would they remember that I got angry about it?


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