Just one of those days

This week has been exhausting.

I was really busy at work, which is a good thing, and I truly do love it. But being on my feet all day and then doing all the stuff that needs to be done to run our household is difficult sometimes. I have also been training for a 4 miler, my first race in about 14 years. It will also be the longest distance I have EVER run, so it is totally a challenge for me. I was looking forward to a chill weekend; all we HAD to do was gymnastics class Saturday morning and church Sunday morning. Awesome! Except I forgot about my cousin's baby shower in Dinwiddie. And we really needed to go grocery shopping. And Roy had to have a haircut. Ok, no problem, I can handle all of that. And then both kids woke up Saturday morning at 6am, with so much energy I could have sworn they had been drinking coffee all night long. Ok cool, I will grab a caramel macchiato and we will be on our way!

But...

It was just one of those days. Where the kids ask 1 million questions about a movie they have seen so many times they have it memorized. Where they need an explanation for everything I ask them to do. Where the smallest request is met with resistance. One of those days that brings demands from little tyrants every 5 seconds. Where a grocery store trip makes them so excited they are bursting at the seams and ask for everything on the shelves, from honey flavored yogurt to a mini charcoal grill. And are devastated if any requests get a "no". A day in which concepts that they are quite familiar with have suddenly become foreign. A day that our normal treats (a cake pop for Stella and gummies for Roy) are not satisfying enough. When sitting through a sibling's gymnastics class is the most boredom one can possibly imagine. When reading the same book three times in a row is not enough. When coloring is torturous. When an hour long car ride to Dinwiddie feels like 3 hours because they are tired but refuse to let their eyes close. A day when little ones must yell everything, must run in circles, must ignore mommy, must be put in time out 1000 times.

I was exhausted from NOT yelling at my kids. I have made a promise to them and to me that I will not yell. I can talk sternly, I can punish, but I refuse to yell. It just stresses me out. It makes me feel terrible while I am yelling and after I'm done. It may get their attention, but all it teaches them is that mommy is a bully. Granted, I am human, so I do make mistakes and I will find myself slipping back into the habit of yelling. And then I spend the next hour feeling immense mommy guilt. Because I truly, truly want to NOT yell. I am not passing judgement on any other parent who yells; this is a deeply personal thing for me. This is a rule I have set for myself because of how I feel, of how it affects me, of how it affects my family. I feel utterly and completely ridiculous and out of control when I yell. Like a total jerk who accomplishes nothing. So, no yelling. Hence the exhaustion from explaining and reasoning and referee-ing. From normal, everyday parenting. Usually I am up for the challenge, but sometimes, sheesh!!!!

Just one of those days...