The anger bubbling inside of me is layered with fatigue and disappointment. My kids are after all, kids. They’ve gotten better over the years but there are times when circumstances are way past reason and the kids become unmanageable creatures who ought to be put to bed…for at least a few days.
It started on the way out of the door. We’d long planned a trip to Flagstaff, AZ in order to see the snow. It finally came time and the boys were so beyond basic excitement that it was impossible for them to carry out simple instructions without devolving into giggles and or fights. This translated into the youngest arriving in Flag without his shoes. Yeah, no shoes. Despite three reminders and him telling me disgruntledly that he had them, no shoes.
I get excitement. It cannibalizes common sense, leaving a thrill zombie in its wake. By 10 pm that night all three kids were literally spinning in circles as they danced down the hall back to the room. There was no music save for the shouts I was forced to put down time and again before we made it to the room and long after.
It is a burden of parenthood to have children who occasionally act out. How you handle that is one of the defining moments of how your parenting is received. There is a razor wire separating good parenting and straight outrage. I am pleased to say that no child was harmed in the events leading to this blog.
Well, not yet at least.