Triumphs and Failures Tuesday - It Got to Me

It's that time again: Triumphs and Failures Tuesday! A weekly post where I share a parenting triumph or failure.

This week, a failure and a cautionary tale (two for one!). And that failure is me. 

I let it get to me. I let it all get to me. The fatigue of a long day. The lack of sleep. The wasted hours stuck in traffic. The baby who I can't console when he cries. The ever-growing list of chores that don't get done. The messy house. The energetic toddler who, when I'm not in a sour mood, is a laugh riot. The bills and the debt (jeez, do they never end?). And a million other things. Yesterday, it got to me.

And I didn't handle it well. I didn't properly vent all that negativity. I didn't try to talk it out with my wife. I didn't sweat it out with some exercise. Nor laugh it off and tell myself that "I got this.  Everything's going to be alright." I didn't count my many blessings. I didn't "adult" it.*

Instead of chalking it up to a rough day, I tried to bottle up what I was feeling deep inside, and it came out of me in ugly ways. I projected it onto my kids. Snapping at my toddler for splashing too much in his bath when it usually doesn't bother me. Trying to plead with my crying baby as if he could control his crying: "Come on, G, come on! Stop crying! Go to sleep!" And, in a fit of frustration, I deleted my blog post about my trying to console my inconsolable baby (sorry readers, now you'll never know how much I think G prefers his mom and grandma over me!).

And my poor wife who tried to help me sort out what I was feeling. Instead of having a therapeutic conversation with her husband, she witnessed an emotional meltdown not unlike that of a teenager who's told she can't go on that trip with her friends because there won't be any parents there. She told me it would be alright, and I begged to differ in so many words.

I could already feel myself getting less upset by my wife's words, but the juvenile in me wasn't ready to feel better. So I plopped on the couch, planted my face in the cushion seat, and promptly fell asleep. 

Sleep has a way of smoothing out the rough edges. Even 20 minutes of it. When my wife woke me to come to bed, I felt a million times better. I couldn't even imagine acting the way I had pre-nap. The Hulk had left the building.

I would say that I am pretty good at keeping the stress levels down in my life. Relative to the rest of the world, I don't have anything to complain about. In fact, I've got a lot to be thankful for, and I know that. But, instead of keeping that in mind, instead of leaning on my wife for the support she pledged to me years ago, I let it get to me. Fail.

As I brushed my teeth next to my wife in the bathroom, I apologized, which, with a mouthful of toothbrush, toothpaste, and bubbles, came out like, "Om wawee." But she knew what I was saying. She knew.

*Whatever "adulting" means to you!