Tantrums and Tears

I threw a tantrum tonight. It was a controlled tantrum. I ranted, but I didn't rave. I didn't raise my voice (I think), but I complained and threatened a lot. And I made Leah cry. I felt bad about that.

I was in the library feeling completely overwhelmed by the mess of books on the floor and those threatening to fall to floor. I started saying that I should just get rid of all the books. And then I zeroed in on Rebekah and Leah because they were the unfortunate souls in the room with me.

I asked them if I should just get rid of all the books. They both agreed and then Leah started to think about it and got very quiet. Meanwhile, Rebekah was too young to be affected by my tyrannical mind game and asked me questions about which books I thought I'd get rid of. She always agreed that I should go ahead and get rid of them.

I had a HUGE pile of books that I'd swept from the unorganized shelves. And it was only half of the books...half of the kids' books, that is. And I saw unshed tears in Leah's eyes.

I admitted that I wasn't going to get rid of the books. I was just angry that no one seemed to care about the books. But I wasn't going to get rid of them because I thought they were important and we needed good books to be able to read.

That's when Leah's tears came. She was so relieved and I felt (again) like a terrible mother. She'll need psychiatric care for sure after this one. I just keep recording these stellar parenting moves so that when the kids are spending hundreds of dollars on therapy, they'll have something to refer to as "the moment."

I never did find the missing book that originally set me off. The payoff? I can walk safely into the library now. It doesn't seem as if it was worth hurting Leah.