Time Out

It's 11:12 pm. I'm not usually up at 11:12 pm. I'm not usually up past 9 pm!! So you just may be curious about why I'm up so much later than my normal bedtime. It's because of a time out. Yes, I gave myself a time out- a long time out.

The morning started out a bit challenging but not to terrible, we went to a playgroup, had lunch with dh, I got myself a Pumpkin Spice Latte to make myself feel better and the girls were nice and quiet when we got home. No fighting, yelling, screaming, climbing all over my chair and around my back like monkeys. I actually got a full uninterrupted hour to myself!! It was wonderful. And then somewhere around 4:30, the noise and the whining and tattle-telling started back up, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I got dinner started for the girls once dh got home, since my 4-year old had been complaining about being hungry but then I snapped at her about something. She was whining about being hungry again while I was in the process of making her something to eat and I got short with her and told her to cut it out. But I guess I was a little harsh because my hubby calmly told me to cool it before he went off to change. So that made me feel even worse. I got the girls their food and went straight to bed. It wasn't even 7 pm.

I tried reading a little bit at first, but I was too agitated to really give a crap about anything that I was reading. Seriously, that's exactly what I was thinking- "who gives a crap about this junk anyways?!!" So I tossed the book onto the rest of my books on the night stand and, at a loss of what to do with myself otherwise, I lay down and went to sleep. I gave myself a very long, much needed time out. But then dh came into bed somewhere around 10 pm and I woke up a little bit, realizing that I was very hungry, so I got up to make a pbj sandwhich and now I'm here typing because now that the house is completely quiet I don't want to go back to bed. The tv is not on: not Strawberry Shortcake or ESPN. There is no screaming or loud noise coming from the x-box or the bedroom. I don't have to get up and get anyone a drink or clean up after their spilled milk on the table and crumbs off the floor. I don't have to do any of these things. And I should be reveling in that. But I'm not. Because I feel like a jerk. I wasn't yelling at the girls the way I do sometimes, but I wasn't the most patient with them. It's a terrible feeling when your 4 year old is almost in tears as she's telling you to be nice to her. And instead of getting on the floor and making up songs and stories for them and making them laugh, I send myself to my room and shut the door, making it very clear to everyone that I do not want to be bothered at all. You'd think that after being a SAHM for 2 years I'd have it together by now. But I don't. Sometimes I feel like it just gets worse. My eldest daughter is acting out, going through some emotional thing that I don't know how to identify or fix. We moved here from Texas in April, and I know that she misses her friends a lot. But no amount of consolation or promises of making new friends is enough to make things completely better for her. And I am making very active efforts in finding situations for her to make new friends. And it's fine, for then. But once that's done, we're back to square one. I feel so helpless.

And so I gave myself a time out tonight and now I feel like I should have just sucked it up and spent time with the girls instead of being selfish and hiding away in my room. Because what kind of mother just hides from her family for an entire evening? I couldn't even dress it up as being something fun and productive, like going to the mall or bookstore or gym or wherever. Someplace for not just me-time, but for a little personal enjoyment, a place to do something fun by myself. Instead I went to my room. Not for fun, but for survival, really. And now that the girls are sleeping I want to wake them up and tell them I'm sorry. I wish I could be a better mother. They deserve a better mother. Especially since they really are very good kids, and even when I'm mad at them, they still love me. They don't deserve to be yelled at over little things and made to feel like they are being bad when it's really not them that are the problem. It's me. It's all me. And no matter how I try to make it up to them the next day when I have days like this, it always eventually ends up back the same. I end up angry and guilt-ridden because I just can't keep it together. And I just don't know what else to do.