So much for the thoughtful post about letting go of my anger.
(I tried, Yoda, I tried.)
I have noticed a change in myself, that losing my temper and raising my voice has become indulgent, a habit I could put down, with a little effort so it was worth working on.
However. I pulled myself out of bed yesterday, dizzy and feverish to let my kids in after school and pounded the Motrin so I could manage until Greg returned from his trip when both kids launched into bickering over their Annie's Bernie Os. And then they started hitting each other.
I said, quietly - not because of my peaceful, spiritual state, but because I have Flu Throat, sore beyond words - to please stop. To get along. To keep their hands to themselves.
But my patience wavered and I gestured them to their rooms, laryngitis making my promise impossible to break. My attitude sucked, though. I was exasperated.
Bad Mom tagged me for the six word memoir; man that's tough. On a good day. Still, I'm going for it:
Boy, babies, books. Future looks bright.
Ain't nothing a nap can't fix.
Pass the Jr. Mints; show's on.
Ministry didn't fly. This girl's happy.
What would Buffy do? No, really.
Hubby on the road. Boo hoo.
Want to give it a shot? I'd love to read yours. You could even tuck 'em in the comments.