Editor's Note: This was a blog I had written over a year ago and had never posted it. I still feel the need to share it with all of you.
A tantrum before school. The second day im figting the clock and fighting my 4 yr old into his coat and boots to leave. Hes unhappy with his clothes, even after a second wardrobe change that put us behind schedule enough to scare me. And I’m not the type to be afraid of being late to something but after already being talked to for lateness at work, i cannot let it happen again.
I wrestled my kid while he screamed and kicked and scratched. Ten to 8. Five to 8. Its 8am and preschool is starting. I have to drop him off and clock in at work within 20 minutes.
Hes tired, hes cranky, i thought. Hes having big feelings and cant control them like an adult can, i reminded myself. Hes frustrated, just like me. He doesnt understand time and tardiness. He isnt aware of the weight i carry trying to stay sane enough to get to work with a happy face and positive attitude. Im tired too, but i cant take that out on him.
This is only temporary, i thought. He’ll grow out of it soon, its just hard to deal with now.
The drive to school was sobs from the back seat. He wanted his glasses (toy harry potter glasses) he didnt want to go to school, he didnt like his pants. Minute details to an adult but those are the things that mattered to a kid.
The walk into school was more like a war march. He is very stubborn, probably gets that from me. He was detourmined to win and let me drive him home to change and get his glasses. He doesnt understand that if i do that, i could lose our livelihood. So he cannot win. Thats not an option. And i have to carry his sobbing, tired little body into school.
I couldnt stay to help him put his stuff into his cubby as much as i wanted to. So thankful one of his teachers stepped in to let me leave. I all but ran out of the building for fear i took too long.
Pulling out of the elementary parkinglot, i could feel the familiar dryness in my throat. My eyes welled up with tears and had a solid 2 minute breakdown.
In those two minutes, my frustrations showed themselves in the form of tears. Parenting is just hard sometimes. Every kid has different struggles, bad days, and their parents have to learn to handle it. And it. Is. Hard. It is so hard being strong. Being the pillar. Its so hard being the one that has to do everything. It is so hard not having a second parent around to help discipline, to stand with me, to tell me im still sane.
That first minute went by and after that, my mind switched to positive mode, self love mode. Ive spent months rewiring my brain to think this way, to think positive.
At least i have a job im afraid to be late to. I have a great working vehicle that gets me there. I have a kid that fights tooth and nail for any reason to stay home with me. I did all of this yesterday and made it through, i can make life my bitch again today. That was minute two.
And then i realized how quickly i was able to restabilize my mind. An accomplishment! The way you think is the only thing that creates a bad day or a bad life.
I could have let my morning set the tone for the rest of my day but i didnt. I didn’t particularly have a great day (exhaustion) but it wasnt bad. I work with a lot of amazing people. Hell, i probably see them more than i see my family sometimes.
A work family is something that i will always appreciate. My coworkers that say goodmorning to me, i see you. Anyone that i exchange kind words with, i appreciate you. Did any of them know i had a rough morning before they greeted me with a smile? No, but their positivity brightened my day. Some of them are not aware that their kindness made me feel even better.
Worked from 8:18am to almost 6pm. It was a long day for everyone. I wondered how hectic everyone else’s mornings were this morning before a 10 hour work day. I wondered what stresses they put aside to smile at me like i do to smile at them.
Was i happy today? Yes. Yes i was.
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