Good god, the rage

This afternoon and evening would have won me the "Mom most likely to have CPS called on her" award. God, it was terrible.  I was terrible.

This has been a pretty rotten week.  M ran a high, high fever on Monday, Tuesday and part of Wednesday.  He was lethargic and didn't want to eat his solid food, so I had increased his nursings.  And he wasn't sleeping or if he did sleep, it was on me or only with me.

So in addition to my hormones being all over the map (due to introducing solid food 3 weeks ago and now increasing breastfeeding again due to M's illness), I have been sleeping poorly due to my extra bed partner.  And G has been waking up repeatedly during the night and won't settle down until he's seen me.  Sometimes I wish I wasn't so in demand by the young men in my life.

Hormones a mess and having a negative impact on my mood--check.
Lack of sleep and its negative impact on my mood--check.
Stress of sick child--check.
Inability to have 2 minutes to myself all week--check.

When N came home from school, she hadn't eaten any of the carrots I'd packed for her lunch, any of the Fig Newtons I'd packed and only some of the pretzels.  And, of course, she was complaining about being hungry.  So I told her she had to eat her carrots, at the very least, before she got something else.  And so this led to what I call "The Badgering," the incessant asking for whatever it is I've just told her she can't have.  "Can I have a yogurt?"  "Can I have a yogurt?"  "Can I have a yogurt?"

All the while, I'm trying to get M to eat some solid food and G to eat his snack before it got too close to dinner.

After eating her pretzels, 3 of her 4 carrots, a yogurt and some Fiber One cereal, she asked for a slice of cheese, and I just simply lost it.  Why?  Who knows?  Because of the aforementioned stressors of the week?  Because every single day she does this snacking frenzy, as if she hasn't eaten in 6 weeks, and I am constantly running back and forth to the fridge or pantry to get her something to eat?

So blow-up #1, and I feel terrible about it.

I thought it would do us all some good to go for a family walk together after supper.  D suggested he pull N and G in the wagon.  But G wanted to push the Little Tykes Coupe and threw a fit when we told him no.  When he finally decided he was ok with the wagon, he fell and scraped his knee, so I went into the house to fetch my bandage bag.  When I returned 2 minutes later, he and N are out of the wagon and he's trying to pull it.  Knowing that this will mean a snails' pace walk, we told him he could ride but not pull the wagon.  Fit #2 ensued.

I picked him up and starting carrying him thinking that some distance and distraction would settle him down, while D pushed M in the stroller.  N was complaining that she wanted to take the wagon because her legs were tired (this from the girl who minutes before had asked if she could play in the backyard after our walk).  I told her she could forget playing outside after the walk if she was so tired she had to sit in the wagon (which she's too big for anyway).

By this point, I am carrying a screaming, crying G and walking next to N, who is being mouthy and complainy about having to take a walk.

And that's when I lost it.  COMPLETELY.

I grabbed both of them, hauled their asses back to the house and put them to bed.  All the while, remarking that I do plenty of stuff they want to do, but they can't even take a walk around the neighborhood without complaining.  When it's something momma wants to do, we've all got to chime in about how sucky it is.

I go to McDonald's, and birthday parties and Chuck E. Cheese for them.  I watch High School Musical and the Wiggles 3 trillion times because it is what they want to watch.  I spend the end of every visit to Target with a tour of the toy department for them.  I don't want to do it, but I do.  And without complaint.  Yes, I am the grown-up, but I sure as hell get tired of sucking it up when no one else does.

I was absolutely enraged, and I probably scared G to death because he is not used to this.  N gets tongue lashings on a fairly regular basis because she is at the stage where she has an opinion on everything but hasn't learned the art of keeping it to herself.

And even when I was full of rage, ready to knock both of their heads together, I felt so, so guilty and awful for feeling so blasted angry at them.  It was my night to read to them, so I was able to calm down, apologize and snuggle with them in bed, but it did little to ease my feelings of guilt and shame at behaving so atrociously.

In the morning, the kids will be fine.  Over it.  Ancient history.  But I'll be suffering for awhile to come.