Chicken Or The Egg?
This kind of thing seems to happens all the time in our house. But whose fault is it? And does it matter?
I had an less than ideal day at home yesterday.
There were things that need doing that simply didn’t get done; some of it was my fault but some of it was beyond my control. I felt bad about being so unproductive, so when it was time for the school run I didn’t cope well with being engulfed by 4 kids all competing to tell me about their school day. Their endless chatter and demands for my attention annoyed me. I didn’t feel like playing referee.
While I was waiting for DD2 to find her lunchbox, the others all ran off to say goodbye to their friends and I had to spend ages hunting them down to tell them we are going home. By then I was not just annoyed, I was irritated. My head ached with the noise before we even leave the playground.
On the way home, DD1 and DD2 seemed unable to leave each other alone. They bickered and told me that the other one was ‘being mean’. I hate this phrase and insisted they tell me exactly what has happened. They immediately started yelling at each other about who was going to ‘tell’ first and DD2 burst in loud messy sobs, in front of all her friends and their parents.
I hissed at my older two to stay away from each other and that I’d deal with them when we got home . My reward was stroppiness from DD1 and more wailing about how she hates her life from DD2.
Meanwhile DD3 and DS had come to blows about who was going first on their scooters. This has become such a bone of contention that we actually have a system but I often let the side down because I can’t remember whose turn it is. In the end I got so fed up with them, that I confiscated both scooters and made them walk instead.
The rest of the school run consisted of DD1 stalking ahead of us, embarrassed by her dysfunctional family. Me, pulling our wagon with all the bags and the two scooters in it, followed by 3 howling children who took turns at telling me how much they hated me, at the top of their voices.
By the time we got home everyone was furious and the rest of the afternoon carried on in the same vein. Yelling, fighting, squabbling and rudeness. To make matters worse we had swimming lessons, so you can imagine the state of deep joy I was in.
By the time bedtime came, I left DH to get on with it as I couldn’t trust myself not to get really angry with the kids. I was completely fed up with them.
Does this happen in your house? It’s a vicious circle isn’t it?
Irritated parent = kids that act up. Misbehaving children= cross parent.
I guess it doesn’t really matter which comes first, the end result is often the same.