Okay, so sometimes I wonder whose the toddler in the family?
Today, it was me! I can admit it. Not something I'm proud of. Not one of my finer moments. Certainly not an example I want my son to emulate, but it was one of those days.
I felt tired and depleted.
All I wanted was to be understood. Not by my toddler, rather my husband. Don't I do enough, give enough? When do I get to be a priority or when do I matter?
I take responsibility for not making myself a priority at times. It's something I need to work on.
I've read enough self-help books to know this. I'm a giver. I give until I have nothing left for myself.
So today was one of those days. These feelings led to an ugly argument which ended with my frustration level reaching immature status, thus the 19 month old inside of me lashed out and threw a bowl of plums at my husband. I didn't throw the actual bowl. I had enough sense to hang onto it. But the plums I had just cut up for my son, went flying into the air and landed mostly on the floor, but a few managed to splatter on my husband's clean shirt. A shirt, I think, he had just put on to head out to work.
To my son's shock, he shouts, "Noooooo throw plums."
Even he has better sense than me!
Tomorrow is another day!
Have I mentioned that I'm not perfect?
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