We went to a child's three year old birthday party today. It was a pretty nice time, for the kids. The kids played in the pool and on the blow-up water slide. Then we all had pizza, yum, and watermelon and changed out of suits and did presents. It was at this time that I held my own almost-three-year old and got a nice splash of poo on my shirt. Wonderful. Someone had some spray Dreft, so I got that on there and you couldn't really smell the poo anymore. Then, the fun continued and we had cake and ice cream. Somewhere in there we did a pull-the-string pinata which didn't work. That was actually nice because ALL the kids got to pull a string hoping it would break it open. The number of strings was perfect. Then the mom just dumped the candy out all over the kids' heads. Eventually I wrangled the kids out of there receiving a compliment on my complexion on the way. The woman said my face looked so nice and clear and here I had been upset because of how much I had been breaking out this summer with the sunblock and the sweat and the terrible periods... too much info? Sorry. So then we get in the car and I realized just how exhausted I was and how I didn't want to hear anymore noise and gave the kids each a lollipop to keep them appeased. It doesn't last long enough and they started asking for more candy and whining that they were so hungry at which point I said they could only have a healthy snack when they got home and to STOP TALKING TO ME!
At home G got a quick bath a snack and then got to bed reasonably well. There was a little fighting on the teeth-brushing and she has this bad habit of running away from me when I call her to come to me. Very frustrating! But S had to sit on the toilet for 20 minutes. That's her normal before bed routine, so I didn't mind that. Then she got a shower, but was so whiny about having to do it and just plain annoying. Finally she finished her shower and I went in her room and saw crayon shavings on her bed and a dowel rod from her puppet-theater curtain my mom made. That's when I flipped out. I'd been around too many little children (and not enough interesting adults). I'd been pooped on. I'd been pestered "Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOM!" I'd been whined too "I don't wanna... " The irresponsibility of my five year old to sharpen a crayon on her bed put me over the edge. Of course, I wish I'd said "S, it's really great how you figured out you could sharpen your crayons with your little pencil sharpener, but next time make sure you do it over the trash can. Now help me clean this up so you can get into bed." I didn't do that. What I did was yell "What the hell is this? Crayon shavings on the bed!?" I also hit the bed with the dowel rod with each word I exclaimed. Then I threw her pencil sharpener in her trash can and sat on her bed ashamed. I hate exploding like that. I think my children see me as a Jekyll/Hyde personality. I told S she is a good person and didn't deserve to be yelled at like that and that I was a naughty mommy to have done that. Wow. What a bitch though.