Had another lose-my-sh** moment this morning. Completely lost it on Sebastian. I started out patient, reasonable, explanatory, respectful. It soon became threatening, then a time-out, then a spanking on the bum, then a complete breakdown. I told him he could live with us until he's 18, then he's out of here. He can go find a new mommy. Basta, I'm done catering to this spoiled brat. Bla, bla, bla, bla. Then I left the house with Lucas as he cried for me to wait for him (even though I had been asking him for 20 minutes to put on his running shoes that he begged me to buy a few weeks back but that now he H*A*T*E*S and refuses to wear...).
I ALMOST told him I didn't love him anymore. Yup. I was that close. I held back, I have no idea, but somewhere in the back of my head I knew I couldn't do that.
We got to pre-school, and I was still feeling physically ill from all the anger and frustration mixed in with a wee bit of guilt, but still mostly fuming with frustration. I wanted not even to kiss him good-bye and "punish" him. There again, I did not give in to my basic, cruel, animal instincts. When we got into school, it was as if nothing had happened. He completely forgot. He was back to his usual shy, sweet, self, and covered me with kisses as I left.
Yeah, I know. Crazy, eh?
Tonight, when we were getting ready for bed, he randomly said, with a big smile on his face, that now he likes his shoes.
Go figure.
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