Patience: Ill-Rewarded

Today was a rough day for Jacob. He's not feeling well, skipped his morning nap entirely, and then had a short afternoon nap. Hannah had a long afternoon nap and woke up with some extra energy (which made her very silly, or annoying, depending on your mood). Scott had to leave right at dinner time to set up the fireworks in New Hamburg, so I was on my own with two somewhat high-maintenance kids. No problem. Been there a hundred times.

We finished dinner and I took both kids up for their bath. I was planning on a nice, relaxing way to end the night. A soothing antidote for Jacob's crankiness. A calming influence on Hannah's hyper state. A stress-reducer, if you will. Ahhh, warm water, bubbles... sleepy children...

Instead:
Hannah wanted the spot Jacob was sitting in. So I moved him. Then I went to wash her hair and she FREAKED out. "I don't want my hair washed! Stop it! Don't, mom! Jacob's touching my toys! No Jacob!" Tears. Thrashing. I tried to explain that I needed to wash her hair so that I could take Jacob out and leave her to play. Then she could have all the toys. Then Jacob wouldn't be in her way. But she wasn't listening, because she was screaming. Did I mention the thrashing? I do not enjoy thrashing in any environment, but in the tub it's not only extremely aggravating, it's dangerous. And poor Jacob was trying to resolve his crankiness issues in a relaxing bath, while his sister created chaos and hazards all around him. My blood pressure had already been rising steadily, my temper slowly steaming. I didn't realize it was possible to take such deep breaths through your nose. And then, I am sad to admit, I lost it. I meant to use a stern voice, but it came out more as a frustrated shriek: "Hannah Banana!" (I know, not exactly what I expected either.) And then I continued with some vague, mostly incoherent threats about taking her out the tub right now, etc. etc. and it all sounded a lot meaner and out-of-control than it does now. I promptly removed the innocent Jacob from the tub and took him away to get ready for bed. I then returned to Hannah and tried to talk calmly and rationally about her behaviour. She apologized. We moved on.

Except I didn't move on, because I tend to obsess about things. And I was obsessing about my temper explosion. Not because of what I did or said, but because of what I wanted to do and say. It wasn't good. I felt guilty for being so quick to snap. So I resolved to be more patient. To keep my temper in check. And how did that work out, you ask?

Like this:
Hannah took advantage of my patient demeanor. She asked to go outside 5 dozen times. She ignored me. She wouldn't go to bed. She brushed her teeth for 20 minutes. She woke her brother up with her antics. She wanted more stories. And through it all, I waited calmly. I spoke softly. I smiled. And then I came downstairs to write this long post about it so I can "let it go" while patiently waiting for my blood pressure to return to normal.