Today I Didn't Like My Dictator...I Mean Toddler

Just Look At The Little Terror

Today was the day that I almost lost it. Today I didn't like my little dictator of a toddler...I love him regardless, but today, I absolutely didn't like him. Do I feel bad about this? No. No I don't because I literally had to count to three before I let loose in the car every single marble I had left. Mothering four children ain't easy. Not in the least.

As much as I'd like to get it right every single time, sometimes I mess up. Sometimes I yell at the kids to stop yelling, or crying, or fighting, or to simply bring me the darn remote. Parenting is so messy, and today...well today was one of those days.

My morning started off around 6:45am because I ignored the first and second alarm I set. My body clearly needed me to slow down and who was I to protest that? 

I arrived at school and commenced to teaching in a classroom that not only doesn't have air, but is right smack dab by a set of trees and plants that our environmental SLC chose to lay fresh manure on...AGAIN. So, not only did my classroom smell like a barn (I'm being extremely nice with the word choice...the students weren't so P.C.), it was also hot as Hades. 

Luckily for me, the class periods flew by and before I knew it, the bell finally rung indicating the close of the day. In my head, I'd been envisioning running home to relax and sit under the A.C. Then I remembered, today was the first meeting of a club I co-sponsor, the MSA which is also known as the Muslim Student Association. 

After sweating it out some more while watching some of the students lay out the direction of the club for the year, I hightailed it to my car for some relief. With no time to spare, I shot over to pick Siraj up from daycare then headed back home to meet the girls. 

After about 30 minutes downtime, we were all loaded back into the car so they could make their 5:15 gymnastics class. While there, I attempted to mark some papers, kicked over a cup of water Safi placed by my feet, fended off a crying toddler who was pissed I didn't bring any money for snacks, and successfully paid a bunch of bills.

But....the toddler wouldn't take no for an answer about the snacks. He just kept coming back to ask the same question and each time he threw a tantrum by biting, yelling and crying. After class ended, he demanded to be picked up because he didn't feel like walking...so I acquiesced to keep from having a tantrum of my own.

Once in the car, he continued yelling, kicking my chair, screaming for his daddy, and just being an overall little jerk...as toddlers are wont to do. 

At this point, to keep the car from skidding off the road...I yelled for him to stop...to which he started to yell louder. Realizing yelling and pushing his feet down wasn't working I chose the path less traveled...I ignored him. 

In my head, I counted to 20...then 30...and I kept counting until finally we were home. There I was, triumphant, as I'd successfully blocked out and neutralized the threat. The disaster was avoided and my sanity in taters but still hanging on by a thread.  

Now, normally, this would be the part where I say something inspirational. Unforutnately, I got nothing for you and as my friend Michelle would say, "Judge your Momma."

Here's the thing...it's only September and I wish I could say things are going to get easier throughout the year, but I know that's simply not the case. My toddler is going to continue being the Donald Trump of the family by throwing tantrums and demanding things that he just ain't gonna get...but at least I can say he's acting like a petulant child because he is a petulant child. Too bad we can't say the same about DonDon.

But I digress...life would be so much easier if I could enjoy a glass of wine...or two...life. Ah well, apple cider bubbly it is. 

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