Yelling

I yelled at Benjamin today.  Again.  I feel awful.  Again.

It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen from time to time — I’m stressed out, and one of the kids does something that is, legitimately, frustrating or anger-worthy, and I get upset.  But, I get more upset than is warranted by whatever it is that they did.

Today, it was an empty soda bottle to the back of my head, courtesy of Benjamin.  (But, of course, that isn’t *really* what it was about — it started hours earlier as frustration towards Dan.  However, Dan was at work, and I hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him about it yet, except by text, so I was keeping a lid on it.)  So, Benjamin chucked the soda bottle and I turned around and yelled at him.  “Do not throw things at people!”  I was angrier than I needed to be, but not totally out of line.  He was shocked, but not overly upset.

Then, to calm myself, I walked away (from the dining room to the kitchen — not far) and took a few breaths.  But, for some reason, this set him off, and he followed me, crying.  For some reason, this set me off and I turned around and said to him, “Stop crying or go away until you can stop crying!”

Ugh.

Awesome.  I’m the crappiest mom EVER.  (Ok, not really, but I didn’t know that I had that particular gem of parenting in me.)  I’m really disappointed that I said this to my child.  I walked away, again, to try and compose myself, he cried harder, and I fell apart, crying and apologizing (another winning move) and then he cried even harder.

We cuddled and kissed and played a couple of games and watched tv and I gave him a bottle and I think we’ve made up.  I upset him, to be sure, but like before, I think me being upset was the most traumatic part for him.

I do not want to yell at my kids for stupid stuff — certainly not because I’m irritated with Dan.  I have to get a handle on my stress levels.