Run for the hills!

I had a not so proud parenting moment the other day. (Please excuse the following corny analogy, I can't help myself.) The dam broke, and I quite literally ran for the hills. In other words, I lost my shit. Big time. Oh it's not what you think. I didn't hit anybody, didn't leave any emotional scars that I may have to look back on and pinpoint the exact moment of parental failure. I simply could no longer share the same space of one endlessly screaming banshee--that would be Ava--and one endlessly whining shrilly voice--that would be Sophia. It was dinner time, I had enough of the day's events that kept piling on into a heart pounding GET ME OUT OF HERE moment where I could either scream and wig everyone out, or make a run for it. And run I did. My mind must have been going to this place in time where I would need those running shoes on when I got dressed for the day. Already equipped for the short marathon I was about to embark on (mental note: next time I "prepare" for a little breakdown, I might want to wear a sports bra), I yelled to Rick "feed Ava!" and ran out the front door. Problem is, I am not a runner. So my very dramatic exit quickly led to gasps of air and side pains about 2 blocks down the street. But I wasn't about to turn around and head back home, so I walked really quickly up the big hill next to our house and released that pent up steam. And it felt good. And then I felt a little silly about the whole dramatic running out of the house bit I just pulled.
On the walk down the hill, I tried to come up with a teachable moment, because I knew Sophia would not just ignore this charade and finish dinner like nothing happened. But honestly, I couldn't find one. "Mommy just lost it, honey" didn't sound right because I must tell Sophia at least five times a day that she needs to learn how to control her emotions better. And I can't really condone the behavior of running out the front door without telling anyone where I was going. So I just decided to announce to the quiet (like, you could hear chewing from the front entrance it was so quiet) family members eating ever so mannerly at the dinner table that mommy just needed some fresh air. "But why did you leave?" Sophia asked in a concerned voice. "Oh I was just hot and I didn't feel like sitting down to eat so I just ran around the block sweetie." As if a half-assed excuse would sound better presented with a sing-songy voice and plastered smile. I wasn't about to actually look at Rick, but my peripheral vision took in his raised eyebrows. So who's teachable moment did this really turn out to be afterall? Mine. It really doesn't matter what happened during the day to set me into that downward spiral. What does matter is that I need to get better at knowing when things become a little too much and adjust to that before I get to the point of boiling over. That I cant just do it all like I really just want to do. Being perfect isn't an obtainable goal. There will always be a floor to vacuum, laundry to fold, or pending responsibilities. I can always do better, but some days maybe just doing what I can is good enough too.