Oh... the guilt. You know it's coming. Then you hope maybe this time it will pass you by, but you realize you probably deserve it. And then, as your temper calms and your anger drips out of your body... you feel that twinge. Oh, here it comes! Guilt. GUILT. It sits heavy in your stomach and thick on your brain. And your heart, don't get me started. I'd rather just be stabbed than the slow and all-encompassing pain of knowing I just lost my temper with my dear, dear toddler - as infuriating as she can be at times.
Today, for what seems like the millionth time, Georgia messed with my laptop. After being told a million-plus times not to touch it without asking mommy, she turned it off while I was uploading edited pictures to a website. No biggie, right?
Except maybe it took a million times to make me snap... and I YELLED. I yelled and then yelled again.
And you know what happened next. Her bottom lip quivered, her shoulders scrunched up, her chin tilted down slightly, the tears welled up in her eyes and then they spilled over and she cried and cried.
Stab right through my heart.
So I quickly snapped her up in my arms and cuddled and soothed and whispered in her ear. Was it more to soothe my guilt or to quell her tears? I guess it probably helped us both.
There's something about those moments that you know you can't take back. I try and try my damnedest to keep my temper at bay. I know where my temper comes from, and I know how that person's temper affected me as I was growing up. Some of my most vivid childhood memories involve that temper. Kids do remember, and my temper is the last thing I want Georgia to remember of me when she's grown and looking back on her younger years. I want her vivid memories to be of laughter and smiles and love. That is my job as a mom. Days like this make me feel like I need 100 days of happy for her to balance it.
I heard a quote the other day, "once said, never unsaid." I'm working on that and taking it to heart.
Sorry pumpkin... mommy will do better. We're learning together.