mad

Today Hadley made me mad. She was in a typical, almost four year-old, push your buttons mode. Not listening, doing exactly opposite of what I asked her not to do. "Hadley, crayons are for paper" and two minutes later I catch her coloring on the table top and the top of their push car. "Hadley, stay inside the fenced area (in our backyard)" and where do I find her? On the other side of the fence.

I got mad.

I got so mad that I gave their little table and chair set away. I had it. I have asked countless times not to color on things other than their drawing paper, none the less, it happened. And my almost four year-old knew better. If my two year-old had done this, I probably wouldn't have been as livid.

Following this extravaganza, Hadley decided she needed some privacy in the bathroom - fair enough - but she slammed the door in her sisters face before she had the chance to get her hand out of the door. This set me off too.

And I yelled.

Then I cried.

I don't like being mad. It's not fair that I was mad at my daughter who was doing exactly what she should be doing at this age. But I was mad. Pissed.

And so I apologized. For being mad and yelling. But I explained what the problem was.

But, I don't like being mad.