Today is the first Easter in my life spent alone. Yes, yes, I suppose I am feeling sorry for myself. I am still at heart a spoiled only child. And therefore, what did I do when the kids arrived this evening from their weekend at dads? Called their father to the carpet for not even registering it was Easter (still a big deal at my house) the importance of his involvement with his son, and my extreme desire not to have to tell him these things since I am not in that wife role any longer. Then I moved on to our son, who was procrastinating about school work. Then I nailed Rose about her brothers hair. (can you see this is starting to become non-sensical anger?)
Rose came downstairs after the lights were out to have a heart to heart with me about how inappropriate and mean what I said was. And that she thought I should apologize. And she was right. When I think about what I said it makes me cringe. So not like me, but so very like me to attack in that manner when I feel like crap. I apologized. And she shed her traditional "tears of frustration" at me. Funny when a 14 year old can switch maturity level with a 45 year old.
Then to top off the evening I sent a volatile email off to a good friend that the timing is very inconvenient for her stress levels. Or mine for that matter. I suppose that is another post.
At age 45 I have finally figured out that when I am angry, it is actually fear. That is so difficult for me to claim, since I would always define myself as fearless. Cautious yes, but fear, no. But fear is very present when I roll into this sort of erratic nastiness. So I suppose my next 45 years will be finding out where this fear comes from and how to not make those I love miserable when I am threatened. Sigh. Well, that does give me some time....
Rose came downstairs after the lights were out to have a heart to heart with me about how inappropriate and mean what I said was. And that she thought I should apologize. And she was right. When I think about what I said it makes me cringe. So not like me, but so very like me to attack in that manner when I feel like crap. I apologized. And she shed her traditional "tears of frustration" at me. Funny when a 14 year old can switch maturity level with a 45 year old.
Then to top off the evening I sent a volatile email off to a good friend that the timing is very inconvenient for her stress levels. Or mine for that matter. I suppose that is another post.
At age 45 I have finally figured out that when I am angry, it is actually fear. That is so difficult for me to claim, since I would always define myself as fearless. Cautious yes, but fear, no. But fear is very present when I roll into this sort of erratic nastiness. So I suppose my next 45 years will be finding out where this fear comes from and how to not make those I love miserable when I am threatened. Sigh. Well, that does give me some time....
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1 comment:
It IS mature of you to at least recognize your mistakes. Sorry you had such a bad day.
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