Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Wednesday, Bloody Wednesday

Bedtime did not go as planned.

Big E's frustrating preference of barely eating dinner followed by multiple snacks after teeth brushing, while in bed, caused a minor tiff between us.

I'M READING BOOKS NOW.  IF YOU GO DOWNSTAIRS TO GET A SNACK YOU WILL MISS PART OF THIS BOOK.

His response was to throw a book at my head.  It grazed my chin.  But I had had enough.  I stood up to storm out of the room.  It was either that or throw him out the second story window.

Mid-stride, Little E walked into the path of Tornado Mrs. Yoy.  I tripped on him. He went down hard. I went down harder.  I slammed my already ailing back into Big E's bedroom door as I landed on my side.

Little E started crying.  My back was in flames.  I felt like that old lady on the infamous commercial.

I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!

I propped myself up on my elbow to assess the damage to Little E.

Blood.  Dripping from his mouth.  On the carpet.  On my iPhone.  Everywhere.

SH*T!

Yes, I dropped a dirty bomb in front of my kids.

I pulled Little E over to me.

BIG E, GO AND GET A WASH CLOTH FROM THE BATHROOM!!!

Shockingly, he listened.

I lifted up Little E's gum to see the wound to the inside of his upper lip.

It stopped bleeding shortly after.  I began crying.  I'm the worst mother in the world.

MOMMY, YOU HURT ME.  (Little E said it twice for good measure).

Thanks, Little E!  You are really massaging away my raging feelings of guilt.

In summary:

1)  I stormed out of my 4 year-old's room like a 4 year-old.
2)  I took out an innocent bystander in the process.
3)  I cussed in front of my kids.

Where do I pick up my sash and crown for winning WORST MOTHER EVER?


Tomorrow I will work on my temper.  I am an adult.  Big E is not.  And repeat.

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