Thursday, 25 February 2010
Cranky pants on
Although it had been many years since I had seen him, I did spend much of my childhood in his warm-hearted company. I feel sadness that he is dead, and I feel especially sad that he died alone. You see, apparently he died on Jan 30th, but the news has only now filtered through to his family. I am yet to know the full story (we are still in touch with his sister) but I am thinking smelly body in the apartment next door type of scenario. Awful.
I went to bed on Tuesday night promising myself that I would wake up happier. Only I didn't.
Yesterday I just took up where I had left off. Yelling. Shouting. Frustrated. And, while I apologised to my children for my mood, I just couldn't shake it.
So I wore my cranky pants all day long. Pulled up high. I got grumpy when Nugget refused to repeat his rendition of his reading homework. I wanted to tear my hair out when Do Dah spent his lunchtime walking around the house instead of sitting at the table. I spat the dummy when Nugget refused to eat his roast chicken dinner (made the WW way with minimal oil). I practically had to muzzle myself to stop myself from swearing at him.
I went to my meditation course last night. I felt like an imposter after all the anger, frustration, irritation and guilt that I have been carrying this week. But I particpated in the meditations, and slowly, I began to feel calmer.
After one and half hours, most of which was spent internally reprimanding myself for not being able to focus, I finished my meditation session and came home. I did feel more relaxed. Less annoyed. Happier. I had worked through some of my issues and made peace with myself for my moods.
I had a nice night chatting to my husband. Overindulged in chocolate bullets (at least 8 Points worth which is unpleasant to contemplate) and went to bed with a feeling that I could have a better day today.
Only I haven't.
The fact that the twins were up at least 5 times between them last night (bloody teeth) and I was too busy eating chocolate bullets to get myself into bed at a reasonable hour, meant that I am, once again, sleep deprived.
This morning I actually SCREAMED at the kids (not a yell or a shout). My husband gave me a time-out because I was so out of control!
So much for Zen. So much for being a good Mum. So much for being a reasonable person. All out the window!
So I sit here at the computer feeling terrible. Guilty for getting so out of control. Annoyed for letting the small things in life get so darned big. Angry for acting like a toddler and modelling such appalling behaviour to my children. What is it with me???
* Post entered in Life in a Pink Fibro's Weekend Rewind on December 11, 2010. Click over to read lots of other old favourites!