Without going into too many details Thanksgiving and the days surrounding it have been rough around here. My husband and I, along with our 4 year old son and 2 year old daughter traveled to my husband's hometown for Thanksgiving to visit his family. The trip is about 200 miles each way and generally takes us about 3 hours. While there we don't generally sleep well, which makes for tired and cranky kids, as well as tired and cranky parents.
In addition to the normal holiday craziness my husband's brother is currently fighting for his life, about 6 hours from the town where they grew up, so it added an additional strain on my in-laws (on top of adding 2 adults and two toddlers into their small townhouse for several days).
During this time of concern for my brother-in-law, the stress of travelling (and not sleeping) with two little ones and other family dynamics left me at my wit's end last night. I was mad at my husband, mad at my kids, and pretty much just MAD. Before I knew what was happening I reached my breaking point, screamed at my husband, started crying, ran to my room and slammed the door. Did I mention I was MAD!?
It is now about 24 hours after my outburst and I am extremely embarrassed about how I handled the situation. First of all, I had no right to act the way I did. Secondly, my husband is in one of the most difficult periods of his life as he doesn't know if his big brother will pull out of this. I should've been supportive, instead of harsh. My fatigue is no excuse for how I handled the situation.
The more I reflected today, the more I realized how much I'm like my kids. When my kids are tired and cranky they throw fits, yell, scream and cry. When she is mad my 2 year old runs away and slams her bedroom door. My kids get disciplined for this behavior, as it is unacceptable in our house to throw a temper tantrum when you don't get what you want. Isn't that what I did last night? I threw a 34 year old temper tantrum.
As ugly and as it is when my kids do it, I have come to realize it is infinitely more ugly (and embarrassing) when I do it . . .
I guess I have some growing up to do . . .
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