As I was uploading videos from the camera, I came across this odd little clip. Bob was trying to set up the video camera in the car. It's funny and cute.
The next video, which I am not going to share, is immediately after this one. I am getting into the car, we're late. I'm telling Bob something, and Big Man is trying to get my attention to tell me about the camera. He's smiling, anticipating surprising me. And in a flash I whirl around and bite his head off. I screech, "WHAT?! WHY are you SCREAMING at me?"
Oh, god. What a monster I am. Thank god I don't see his face crumble on the video, but I'm actually just as ashamed that my screaming doesn't have much of an effect. I must be such a witch that he's used to it.
Ever since he was about two, I have been trying to come up with strategies for me to not lose my shit. I see him with the same lightning moods and hair trigger and escalating fury, and I want to model good ways to deal with those things.
Problem is, I got nothing. And I'm 40. How's he going to learn to control his boiling point? He's FIVE.
It's got to be done though. That video is the most shameful thing I've ever seen. I'll quit caffeine, I'll get more sleep, I'll start exercising, I will do it.