So why did I slap my beloved five-year-old? Because he's forgotten how to add and spell 'number-words'. Cruel, cruel beyotch of a Mamma am I.
I should never have sat down with him yesterday to "see how he's doing and what he's up to", just out of the blue, and that too when I was already so cranky and irritable from the illness. Needless to say, he mucked up, I shouted, that flustered him even more and he messed up even more and I just slapped the boy silly and told him I'm going to throw all his toys and precious movies into a big bonfire. And when the YO came running to his defence, beyotch that I am, I yelled him into a shocked and stupefied silence.
I have been hating myself since the incident. Yes I'm sick. But instead of turning on my babies, I should have locked myself in the room, banged my head against the wall to get the pounding in m head to stop and knocked myself out cold.
And what happens? After the EO comes back from karate class, he wraps himself all over me and says "I love you my Mamma" about a zillion times and the YO has only hugs, giggles and smiles for me.
How easy it is for them to forgive and forget. They don't know what it is to hold grudges...why can't we take a leaf from their books?
My tears of guilt, shame and remorse have made a mighty river, yet I still don't feel calm.
You all hate me now, don't you? I don't blame you...I hate me too.
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