Today was another rough day with the kids. Even though they're still very young, they've already started to gang up on me, and their screaming and fighting and unwillingness to listen really got to me this afternoon. I felt pushed to my edge and yelled, which I don't like to do and which I always feel guilty about afterward. The day seemed extra long because my husband worked late tonight, and I couldn't wait for him to get home so that I could sneak out for an hour before the kids' bedtime. I had to buy Easter basket treats, so I needed to go out for that, but maybe more importantly, I needed that time to myself. I needed the peace. When my husband came home, I practically ran out the door.
When I returned home, my son, the son that I had yelled at all day long, ran to the door and hugged me around the knees, and shouted, "Mama! Mama's home!" I wanted to cry. After everything bad that had happened today, he was still excited to see me. Despite it all, he was glad I was home.
I was too.