The regret and guilt are instant.
We were 20 minutes past bedtime. I had a late afternoon faculty meeting, so the children had been at preschool later than usual, and then dinner was later, and we were all tired.
I got them bathed, and toothbrushed and pottied and hairbrushed and storied and in bed.
Then I went to answer work email and Winton shrieked that he needed to go to the potty. Though I knew he didn't, I am really trying to encourage potty usage, so I took him. And he didn't pee.
On putting him back in bed, Clara asked for a glass of water . . . and I lost my biscuit.
I believe I stamped my feet as though I was even younger than them, and yelled at a volume our row-house neighbors could probably hear, "Yrrrrrrgnzf! You two are making me SO DAMN FRUSTRATED!"
They both then shut up.
And I felt instantly guilty and awful and went about kissing their heads and apologising.
Sigh.
Oh goodness. Don't you even worry anymore. I'm pretty sure every.single.day. I exclaim to my boys that they are driving me bananas/crazy/nuts. We're in it together...it's all good. Breathe. ;) I always forget to do that.
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