I love my children.
Let me say that again.
I love my children.
Several times today I wanted to run away and never come home. Days like these are becoming more frequent. Not a single quiet moment all day. And not just regular noise. I'm talking teeth-grading, nail-biting, hair-pulling, irritating noises. All. Day. Long.
Fighting between my older two children. Me trying to resolve the fight and becoming the target of the yelling from both of them. The 6-year-old taking things from the 2-year-old. The 2-year-old screaming her friggin head off like she was being murdered every time something didn't go her way. Liquids spilled, dumped and sloshed all over the house. Solid items broken, banged on or thrown. And after a friend played his ancient cassette of Peter, Paul & Mary, "Puff the Magic Dragon" being sung over and over and over and over.
I don't like to yell, but I've been doing it a lot. I just want five friggin seconds to read a paragraph, complete a sentence, finish a damn thought. I wish my children would learn just because I don't answer them the very second they say something, doesn't mean I didn't hear them and they should repeat themselves at least 10 times. I wish my 6-year-old would learn the household language instead of falling back on her native language of Whine. I feel like I'm suffering from PPD all over again, mumbling repeatedly, "ok just have this and please for the love of god leave me alone." Then the kids act hurt and rejected and I feel even worse.
Is it bedtime yet?
But I love my kids. Love love love them.
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