I wish I understood why it is SO much more difficult to be calm, rational and non-yelling when dealing with the kids.
It's not like it takes any extra time, but holy hell, it does take more than a smidgen of extra effort.
When summer blazes into town and the BBall team is all up in my grill ALL the time, every second of every day and somehow, I haven't figured out yet how they coordinate it, they ALL need something different at the same time, in different parts of the house.
How the Crawford, Texas do they do it?
And if they don't need something, they want to torture one another to the point of screaming or even worse, the dreaded RoRo dying animal screech.
But I am, AM I tell you, getting better about my reaction.
When I can't take any more of them, I am taking time for me. Yesterday I was close to explosion and I made me some lunch; pulled up a DVR'd HHI (that's House Hunters International, ya'll); and lo and behold, I no longer wanted to throttle them.
Maybe that's one of the keys, really. Finding a few minutes A-L-O-N-E. Take time for yourself and it does help.
I know it's my fault, all you two kid people out there going, "Then why did you have five kids, moron?"
And you know why?
Drinking and misplaced condoms.
That's why.
