Alternatively titled: Tantrums; they aren’t just for toddlers.
Today has just been one of those days, destined to be a disaster. Having forgot about the dinner dishes, I woke up to a really messy kitchen. I can’t function in a messy kitchen, but I didn’t have time to clean it before making Nolan’s breakfast (he was hungry, and didn’t want to wait – understandable). So I’m grumbled and bitched and moaned while Matt looked on completely irritated. He was all “well Jessica, I cooked dinner last night, so by default you should have cleaned the kitchen.”
I may have or may not have castrated him for that one.
I clean the kitchen at least three times a day – after every single meal. But every once in a while, I’d like to just kick back and have someone else *AHEM; MATT* take care of the after dinner dishes, even if he cooked dinner. There have been plenty of nights where I’ve cleaned the kitchen despite cooking dinner.
So, anyways. This morning didn’t start out so grand. Nolan was a peach, as always. He’s always smiling, all the time. He ate almost all of his eggs except for one bite, then had a handful of fruit loops. But I just couldn’t get myself motivated to do anything.
I had a shit ton of errands to run today. I needed to go to the post office and finally mail our Christmas cards, and I wanted to get my last name changed on my driver’s license. I also wanted to go to Walmart and get a couple of things, as well as the grocery store. Around 10:30am, I was finally dressed and ready to go out. I set Nolan down in the living room and rushed outside to start the car. On my way in, my phone started ringing; it was Matt, calling to find out more information about a question I had asked him (if a friend of mine could crash on our couch one night while he makes his journey back home, it’s an 8 hour drive and we’re at the halfway point of his trip).
That’s when I realized that Nolan was not in the livingroom, where I had left him. I figured he would be attacking the tree or something. I looked over to the bathroom, where I was hearing noises. Ok, so he’s in the bathroom, was my thought. There’s nothing “harmful” in there (besides for the toilet, but the lid is ALWAYS down to keep the cat from drinking toilet water and he can’t lift it. Yet, anyway). As I was talking to Matt, I made my way over to the bathroom and went to open it – and then realized that the door was locked. From the inside. By my toddler who wouldn’t know how to follow the direction of “unlock the door for Mommy”.
I started to panic, because I have tried in the past to unlock the bathroom door (on Matt, when he was showering, as a joke) and never could. Matt tried to talk me out of it, and told me to grab the long skinny screw driver from his tool box. Don’t forget, I’m the girl that doesn’t know the difference from a Robertson and a screwdriver. But thankfully I was able to find the “long skinny yellow” screw driver, and with shaky hands I tried to unlock it but couldn’t get it because I was panicking so much. So, I did what any not-so-sane wife would do and started yelling at Matt like it was his fault (because, ya know, if he hadn’t have called me I would have noticed Nolan was in the bathroom sooner and got him out before he locked the door, or something).
Finally, I got the door unlocked and quickly tried to usher Nolan out of the bathroom. But he tripped over my own stupid foot and fell, and started to cry. So I may have or may not have yelled “FML” and hung up on Matt to pick up Nolan and cuddle him. Then I left him in the livingroom (after closing the bathroom door) so I could turn off the car because I was definitely not feeling an outing of any sorts, on account of I was still reeling from the panic attack and apparently I don’t learn lessons the first time around. When I came back inside, Nolan was missing again. This time he was in our bedroom, playing with Matt’s tools.
So, go me, mother of the year award for me.
Luckily, Nolan didn’t get hurt during my stupid brain melt moments. But I’m honestly feeling like a big fat failure today. I realized that most of my issue was simply that I had skipped out on eating (or sorta, anyway, since a bowl of fruit loops is apparently not filling in any way, shape or form). So I made some toast, a tea, and sat at the table holding Nolan in my arms. He ate half my toast, and then took off. He managed to cheer me back up with his constant grin and the loud yelling of “toast!” over and over again. I just love when he learns a new word, and he learned “toast” today despite the trauma of being locked in a bathroom and having me freak out and panic. So, that counts for something, right?
I remember I was locked in a bathroom when I was a toddler. It was very traumatic for me, and even though I was really little I remember because my dad climbed the roof to get into the bathroom (the door had those old locks that couldn’t be opened from the outside). I turned out okay…at least I know my dad will always come to my rescue, if ever I get locked in a bathroom again.
But really; today has gone to shit and I’ve only got myself to blame. I simply just don’t have the patience for it anymore. Is that normal? It’s not that I don’t have the patience for Nolan but for myself and the stupid little mistakes I’m making today.
I feel like I’m failing today, majorly. We still haven’t gotten out of the house, I still haven’t mailed those Christmas cards or changed my name. And do you know what? I don’t think I’m gonna. It’s just one of those days where I’m literally afraid to go outside because if it sucks this much inside, what will it be like out there?
Nolan really is a champ, though. I give the kid high props and am so thankful he’s my firstborn. No matter how many mistakes (I feel like) I’m making, he always gives me the same warm sweet smile and is always completely happy to be around me. Which does a lot for my confidence when I’m down in the dumps and feeling like a total failure/loser. He always knows how to bring me away from my pity party.
In any case, I’ve learned a few valuable lessons from this whole day:
- No matter how much I feel I screw up, in Nolan’s eyes, I am “perfect”. (and also; his cuddles make a world of difference).
- We need to invest in Auto-Start. Immediately.
- I now know how to bust into the bathroom when Matt’s in the shower. Insert evil laughter here.
P.S. It would make me feel incredibly better about myself if y’all just posted some bad brain melt down moments of your own – it can be related to anything, not just kid stuff.