There are good days and bad days.
There are good weeks and bad weeks.
There are good months and bad months.
I get it. Phases.
We’re in a bad phase. This morning, after two door slams, a shoe throwing episode and a screaming fit in my face, I had to leave the house. I had to leave because I was afraid I was going to hit him. I’m not proud of it. But I’ll admit it. I’ll admit because I’m guessing most of you have been there as well.
Tomorrow is another day. But I’m dreading it already. I’m dreading the fight to get him dressed. Dreading the complaining about how boring school is. Dreading the 20 minutes I can keep my nice voice on before I inevitably get drawn into a pointless yelling match with a 5 year old.
I don’t want to dread waking up. I want to be excited to hear the funny the things that he says. I want to marvel in how goddamn smart this kid is. I want to drop him off at school and be craving to see him a couple hours later.
You know. All the things I felt daily about three weeks ago.
I guess we all have phases.
I’ll hang in until we’re both through this one.
This parenting thing is hard.