Scapegoat

The kids are back in school today and I am relieved. It was a rough two weeks. Amazingly, the actual holidays were very nice but all the in-between days were pretty awful right up until the end.

Each of my kids had at least two ranting, angry tantrums. That's two tantrums times three kids in two weeks minus the holidays so twelve days which means on average it was a tantrum every other day.

And I, apparently, am the cause of all that is wrong with their worlds. Among the triggers for said tantrums were saying no to a movie at bedtime, asking someone to put something away, putting something away for someone, correcting rude behavior, and showing irritation when I was irritated.

And for such unconscionable acts I have been cussed at and about; have had to listen to, "I don't like you", "I want to run away", "I wish I was never adopted", "I'm out of here as soon as I turn 18", "I have to do everything myself". I've been accused of not doing enough, giving enough, buying enough, loving enough. According to my kids, I'm the reason why everyone is so angry and rude and the default cause of brattiness in three-year-olds.

Of course, they seem to recover relatively quickly and move on to other things until the next explosion and I'm the one still aggravated. Usually it's another day, another snark...I indulge my annoyance with an after bed-time gripe session with Ana and then I'm fine. But for some reason the barbs are sticking this time around. Maybe it's my annual wistful hope for a warm, fuzzy holiday season with my kids which will likely never happen.

So I'm grateful for the space and quiet this morning. And I'm sure they are glad for the chance to get back to school and away from me too.