I lost my shit this morning
Which is my least favorite way to start the day.
In my defense, I did not sleep well last night. My mind was racing and my husband was snoring and my little one woke up and needed a snuggle and when I climbed into her bed I discovered her water bottle had leaked all over the sheets so I ended up soaking wet and when she finally fell back asleep I crept out to the couch where I couldn’t hear the snoring but my sweet, senile dog kept walking around the house like a restless spirit, her long nails clickety-clacking on the hardwood floors. Also, we have crickets. There’s a whole colony of them the front porch but occasionally, like last night, I hear them singing inside the house. I can never quite figure out where they are — in the walls?
Anyway, I was more tired than usual this morning. Not that it’s any excuse.
Last night while reading Real Simple I came across a great piece of parenting advice that said something like, “Don’t be the thermometer, be the thermostat.” It took me a minute or two to grasp this idea, probably because we don’t have AC. But then it clicked and I was like, “Oooooh, I get it. Set the temperature. Be the calm. Keep your cool . Yeah, man, I dig it.”
I started the morning off with great hopes of tapping into the deep well of calm within me (something I also read somewhere long ago that struck a chord in me but in reality has made no difference in my ability to cope) and referee a peaceful start to a lovely day. To keep my cool. To be the thermostat. Then one thing led to another and I threw a pair of socks at my seven year old. Not tossed, hurled. Then stomped out of the room in a huff.
Not my finest moment.