Monday, May 10, 2010

Mother's Half Day

My Mother’s Day started out well enough. I heard the five-year-old tip toe downstairs to watch TV – as per my explicit instructions after the day before when he made so much noise –on purpose - trying to wake everyone up, including the ten year old. That’s nice I thought. Maybe there is hope for him.

I cooked a delicious breakfast – baked eggs over spinach and tomatoes with prosciutto and toast. Mmmmmm it was good. And of course, a double espresso from the over-the-top espresso machine that my husband bought years ago.

I got flowers and cards and read the Sunday NYT – it was delightful…. But of course too good to last… Maybe we should call it mother’s half-day. We decided to walk to Cold Stone to get ice cream. My daughter heard that Mom’s got a free “like it” ice cream on mother’s day. So off we went, adults and dog on foot, kids on scooters.

We made the three block walk without any problems. But I should have known that the peaceful day was soon going to come to an end. It was approaching 7pm – the bewitching hour for five-year-old boys. And there was a huge line, probably because it was a beautiful evening for a walk. The five year old decided he wanted an ice cream sandwich, but when it finally came time to ordering he could not decide what kind of cookie (Oreo or chocolate chip) or what flavor ice cream he wanted. Instead of deciding he became completely overwhelmed and threw himself on the floor and began to cry. I took him outside at which point he was so frustrated and mad at himself he said, “I am so stupid” and kicked at the brick outside of the building with his foot repeatedly. Then as I walked with him to the front of the store to wait for his sister and his dad he picked up his scooter and threw it. At which point I told him he was not getting any ice cream. He sulked all the way home. Can you blame him? But at the same time I couldn’t help being irritated at him for ruining our nice outing and just being a killjoy in general.

When we got home I broke down and gave him some strawberry ice cream and put him to bed. I figured he didn’t need a big long lecture – he seems to be harder on himself than I could ever be on him. Tomorrow will be better I told him as I tucked him into his bed. He nodded in agreement and gave be a kiss goodnight. Tomorrow I will try to be better too.

1 comment:

getbornmagmomma said...

I think those moments when they self-flagellate are the hardest. Ever. Because the self-loathing so deeply ingrained in me starts too damn early. I always know when the children get beyond rationality they're either tired, hungry, or maybe it's that I'm tired and hungry. Either way, I wish I could learn, and therefore teach them, that it's perfectly o.k. to opt out of interaction for awhile until I've pulled myself somewhat together again.

As far as you being irritated, I think that just makes you human. I find it frustrating that I've provided an environment for all of my children's emotions to be acceptable, but somehow my (negative) ones are what I remember at day's end. ANd then feel chronically guilty for.