But after a full cup of orange juice was spilled on the kitchen floor, and Rose #3 peed on the bathroom floor because she was too busy hiking up her dress and arranging the footstool to actually Sit. On. The. Potty. And. Use. It., I kind of lost it. I had to clean the kitchen and the bathroom, and I know that in the grand scheme of things (i.e., this vs. homelesness, or starvation, or even layoffs) it is not big deal. But, I was really mad. So, I yelled at the Roses, and I made them clean the living room and dining room in a very authoritarian manner, and Rose #2 looked at me with her crumply face and said, in a small voice, "I thought tonight was going to be a GOOD night."
I felt as small as this (I am holding up my thumb and forefinger and there is about a centimeter span between them).
So, I promised myself tonight would be better. How is it better, you ask? How is it that I am blogging at 6:37 p.m.? The Roses begged to go up to the toyroom and watch television, and I, weak creature that I am, let them.
Who knew parenting would be this hard?