This week I've found myself doing alot of snapping and shouting. I blame the weather in part. It's been 40 degrees plus recently. I blame stress. In addition to worrying about Mr Large and his literacy "issues" we've discovered his teacher is taking leave, effective almost immediately. I feel sad for her and really, really stinking upset for my son who thinks she's wonderful. It's the week before my Bronze Medallion exams, FINALLY next week I'll get the exams out of the way and hopefully (fingers tightly crossed) pass them. I screwed up the courage to sign up for a course to improve my writing, and now it's almost here I'm terrified they will tell me my writing is AWFUL. And mother in law's birthday is coming up and apparently I have to organise to go out for a meal with them. On Sunday. Great.
So I haven't been a very nice person in general.
And then yesterday I had a lightbulb moment and I had this incredibly random thought.
What if I died, and my husband remarried and I was watching down from heaven, and saw his new wife treating my children and him, the way I am treating them?
I would want to kill her.
Or maim her at the very least.
Now apart from being a random idea, and for those of you who don't believe in the ever after, telling me I'm stupid beyond words, I think my point has merit.
And since then I've thought twice before snapping, or yelling.
I even told my husband to have a great time at his poker night.
I smiled at my children when they wanted to read the same story for the 7th time. And read it, with accents and everything.
And when Mr Small could not stop sobbing, because he loves his daddy and if daddy doesnt put him to bed the world will end or something.
Well I ignored my fatigue and the fact that I REALLY wanted to watch the latest episode of "Greys Anatomy" and we snuggled.
Until he did this.
And I loved every second of it.
I thought the "upstairs me" would approve.