Two nights ago Popette had a late night getting to sleep. I won't say to bed, as she had gone to bed at her usual bedtime 7.00pm. It was one of those nights when she kept getting out of bed with a "I'm hot", "Can I have the fan on", "I need a drink", "My elbow is itchy", "I can't sleep", "I'm hungry", "I want to watch TV", "I want juice"...the list kept getting bigger and bigger, like my anger as she wasn't asleep!
Yesterday morning started out with Popette telling me how tired she was. I knew she was tired, but continued on with getting lunches prepared, bags packed, Cherub dressed for preschool and me trying to get Popette ready for school.
After Popette finished her breakfast I asked her to get her uniform on, which started one of the biggest meltdowns ever! For the next 20 - 25 minutes she kept running to her room crying. Slamming her door, hiding under her doona.
|A pic of my girls and I during last school holidays|
A few times I tried getting her dressed, then she'd pull her clothes off and throw them on the floor. When she hid under her covers, I tried pulling her out of her bed which resulted in her kicking/hitting/pinching me.
I know I should have recognized that she was tired, and been the bigger person and walked away. Letting her get ready in her own time instead of me rushing and hurrying her. But I didn't, which then ended up horribly with her blubbering at me that she didn't love me anymore and "I don't like you anymore", which really hurt. Then threw in "I want Daddy!", "I love Daddy not YOU!", which made my heart break into tiny little pieces.
Of course I was stupid and made things worse by opening my big mouth, saying things I regret saying. It wasn't my greatest moment!
But then something in me clicked, and I told her that I loved her no matter what. It didn't matter how angry I was, I would still love her. I told her that I loved her and her sister more than anything in this world. Then I told her that I had carried her in my belly, and that she was the most important thing in my life.
She finally then calmed down and let me get her ready for school.
I am so afraid that this has scarred her. I don't want her to have bad dreams where she wakes up crying over us fighting, nor do I want her to end up in therapy in years to come talking to a therapist saying how terrible a mother I was when she was little.
I hate being that tired, stroppy, angry Mumma. I just want us to be happy, and enjoy the time I have with them, but lately I am finding myself snapping and yelling way too much which I know needs to change.