I raised my voice at Riley this morning.
I stayed up too late reading last night, and I was tired this morning. I knew my patience was thin. In fact, moments before I spoke harshly to the little man, I had been repeating in my head, "They are only fifteen months old. You are tired. They are not out to get you," over and over.
Ha ha, didn't work. Riley kept ripping his bib off and it was driving me nuts. Instead of getting a new bib, making it a game to get him to keep it on, or just letting him eat with it off (I mean, really, who cares?) I grabbed the (hard plastic) bib from him, slammed it on the table and said (loudly), "Riley! You need to stop. doing. that. right now!"
I'll say this: it got his attention. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt like the world's biggest bitch, though. I did put his bib back on, apologized to him, told him that it's not right to talk to people like that and that I was tired and frustrated, but that he was not the problem. And I gave him a hug. As far as I can tell, he was thinking, "Yeah, yeah, where's my breakfast?"
I've been feeling bad about it all day. Poor little man. He didn't deserve that. I know it's not the end of the world, but I want to do better by Riley, and myself. Clearly, I don't like the way I feel when I do things like that. It's just hard when I'm tired and stressed and wish I got more breaks. It's hard to have three people in my life who deserve to be number one.