As parents of children with special needs I like to think we have more patience, strength and resilience than other parents do. We have to. Not only do we have to deal with our children’s disabilities, but we also have to deal with the idiots and ignoramuses that also always seem to be a part of our lives. It’s hard for us to deal with, even on the best of days. This didn’t start out to be the best of days.
I woke up at 8 to the sound of banging and cracking coming from K’s room. I opened the door and he was sitting on his bed with his side table in pieces on the floor beside him. He had destroyed the whole thing with his bare hands. I brought him downstairs to change and dress him, walked into the living room and stopped in my tracks. B had been up late the night before watching tv but had raided the kitchen. There was apple sauce containers and pudding containers, he had a can of spaghetti and left the bowl there. On top of all that, the smell of air freshener was overwhelming. The empty can was also there. He had sprayed it all over the couch to a point where there was a wet spot. I walked into the kitchen and a mess greeted me there too. I felt the anger and frustration building in me until it just exploded into tears. Hubby had gone to get us a coffee and he came back to a hysterical, crying wife. As soon as I told him what happened he went and woke both boys up. I had hit my “angry” point and just started screaming at them. I even started clapping at them, congratulating them on successfully driving me crazy. That was when Hubby told me to go upstairs, and try to calm down. So I’m upstairs with my coffee and my phone trying to calm down. It doesn’t seem to be working. I hear them downstairs cleaning now. And all I feel is guilt. There is no reason at all for me to feel this way. Did K mean to break his table? Who knows? Maybe he thought it was fun. But the other 2 are old enough to do what is expected of them. Not to leave it all for the next person (me) to come along. For so long I allowed their behaviour to continue because I always felt bad with what they have to deal with. Maybe I babied them a little too much. Maybe I let them get away with too much. I can “maybe” until the cows come home but it doesn’t change the fact that they should be treating me with a little more respect. They should be taking more responsibility for their own things. They should do what is expected of them, no questions asked or whining accepted.
I hate getting to that point where I am so angry all I can do is yell. I try so hard to keep my feelings at bay, especially around the kids, but as they get older I am finding it harder and harder.
I know it’s not easy to admit, but please let me know if any of you have days like this. Not even 9 am and I feel like I could just stay all day in bed just to escape my life for awhile. But I can’t escape. I have to persevere.