Short fuse

I guess you could say I was a bad mom this morning. Admittedly I was still in a bad mood from having a bad day at work yesterday, worried about what today might bring, and upset that when I tried to tell Lionel about it at the end of the day he listened to me for about 2 minutes before turning the light off ... all while I was still talking to him. That was extremely rude, and I don't think he could have possibly done anything else that made it as clear as water that he was done listening to me.

This morning I got up at 6:00 for my tennis class. I had some really amazing shots, mainly because I had a lot of negative energy to get out of my system, and I really just wanted to kick somebody's butt. I then had to leave my class early to be back home at 7:30 so Lionel could head to work.

Bella was still down, but Sofia was up and watching TV in my bedroom. I asked her to get dressed, but she dragged her feet and said she wanted to eat first. So I started working for a few minutes, until Isabella woke up and we all went downstairs to eat and prepare the lunches for the day. Once downstairs Sofia dragged her feet once again, and even though I asked her to go upstairs to start getting dressed, she just went upstairs to play. Clearly, by then we were already running late. I then told her that since she had decided to play instead of getting dressed we no longer had time for it and she was going to have to go school in her PJs. Oh, and by the way, we did not have time either to do her hair. She loudly protested and started to cry. I was not really about to send her to school in her PJs, but I was determined to teach her a lesson. So I told her I was going to quickly choose her outfit for her, and purposely chose something she has never worn before because she does not like it, and she would have never chosen it herself: Some black leggings and a plain T-shirt that kind of looks big on her. She once again started to cry, but I pretended not to care. I told her that if tomorrow she listens to me and does not drag her feet, she will have time to choose whatever she wants to wear. She kept asking if she could go quickly choose something else, but I firmly said no, not today.

Throughout the morning she had already asked me a thousand times at what time I was going to go pick her up. And I had already responded that I would try to go at 4. But after our little incident happened I told her I was going to try to go at 4, but I could not really promise her anything, because I could possibly get distracted playing something, drag my feet, and pick her up a little late.

I don't think she will be scarred for life, but hopefully one of these days she will understand that it is very tough for me to stay in the house until I can take her to school, and that I can only push it so much when it comes down to showing up late to work. So if we don't help each other, we are both going to have to suffer the consequences.