On a Scale of Green to Red

I had a rough parenting day today.  One of my sons embarrassed me in front of friends by telling them that the bouncy party place they had taken us to was boring.  Another brought home news of a bad behavior day at school for the second day in a row.  And two were found to have cavities...again.  Big ones that I can see without any dental training whatsoever.

The blows were spaced throughout the day so that they didn't hit all at once, but by the time the cavities came about I couldn't take any more and flipped out on the neglectful toothbrusher who happens to be a repeat offender. I wanted him to feel badly for the money he will cost us so close to Christmas when there really isn't money to spare.  I wanted him to wish he had done better.  I wanted him to feel horrible because I was feeling horrible.

When I was done letting Ethan have what I thought he was due I bathed the younger boys, brushed their teeth, and brushed the cavity-riddled ten-year-old boy's teeth because apparently I have to do that. Then I went to my bedroom to finish being furious. On my bed I found Ethan's wallet with a ten dollar bill, a handful of coins and a note that simply said, "yours".  It was the last of the money Ethan had made from selling his Nook.

All the steam went out of me, all the muttered curse words vanished, and the absence of anger left me with just the simple feeling of defeat.  Why is this so hard? How can I have been a mother for almost thirteen years and still have no clue how to do this right?  Why can't I handle disappointment or anger or regret or humiliation without making them problems that consume me?  Every time I get arrogant enough to think I have parenting figured out it slaps me with a hundred more things I don't know.  How can my sons possibly survive this, let alone become the men I hope they'll be? How can they when I am not the mother I know I need to be?

And not one of today's three problems is the end of the world.

We have insurance, crappy insurance, but insurance nonetheless that will help offset the cost of Ethan's dental work.  And a hundred or two dollars this close to Christmas hurts, but it doesn't hurt like not having the money to fix it at all would hurt.

Drew has been in school for three and a half months with only positive green behavior days until yesterday.  It could have been orange or red, but it was yellow - the color of a kid who asked a sick friend if he was feeling better when he should have been quietly doing math.  And my two-day yellow boy is getting two awards in school this month for being inclusive, not leaving anyone out.  Why was I so angry about two days of yellow on a scale of green to red? 

As for Trent and the "this is boring I want to go home" embarrassment - he's five.  What can I do?  He was hungry, not bored, so I guess I could teach him the difference between the two feelings and have a heart-to-heart about emotional eating.  But letting him cry himself to sleep during his time out might have been a little harsh for an innocent five-year-old mistake.

These tiny little struggles amount to nothing in the long run.  I won't even remember them in a month or a year.  But what they have done, along with all the struggles of all the days that came before today, is reminded me of the mom I have always wanted to be but haven't yet figured out how to become.  I hope someday my kids have that mom.  And I hope I figure out how to be her before all they remember is the one they have now.