Can I have a melt-down, too?

It's been an interesting heap of days. And I mean "interesting" in the slightly dubious sense of the word as its used in the "Chinese curse", May you live in interesting times. As I type this, Ethan is in a corner, playing with three trains from the Thomas franchise and screaming himself hoarse. Actually, he is no longer doing so as I have returned to my blog after a lengthy hiatus due to my computer being a piece of junk. Lately, it likes to shut off at random and then it won't turn on again for several hours. It adds to the "interesting" part of recent goings on.

Note: Another 3 hours has passed since that last sentence because we had to go to Rattlesnake Creek and throw rocks and then go to Big Dipper to get some ice cream. I'm doubtful that I will be able to complete this blog before another distraction/the computer shuts off randomly.

Where on Earth was I? What was the point? Oh, yeah. I want to throw a hissy fit. Both of the boys have done so on numerous occasions in the past few days over things like not being able to get the Thomas trains to link up (the reason for the Ethan melt-down mentioned in the first paragraph) and not being allowed to yank your brother off the couch and onto the floor, face-first. (Ben bloodied Ethan's nose this way.) Little things. It has gotten to the point now where Ben pretty much only likes me for a few hours spaced out over the day. The rest of the time it's "I don't like you anymore, mama"/"You're not my friend anymore"/"I don't want you here, anymore", etc. I've tried to take it lightly because he's 4 and he's going through a phase and blah blah blah, but the most recent time he informed me that he wants me to go away forever I nearly burst into tears. What happened to my sweet baby? And if you're thinking "Ethan's still your sweet baby", that's only partially true. My little melon-headed munchkin has been hitting, punching, pinching, biting, and head-butting me during his little fits of rage.

He's screaming again, by the way. About the Thomas train.

I'm trying to keep the peace. I'm trying to keep order or restore it once it's fled in the face my boys' shaky grasp on the concept of sharing. Time outs are given, scoldings are administered, the occasional slap on the hand or behind is implemented. I take a breather. I read a couple sentences in my book. I remind myself that the kids are really cute when they're not red in the face and shrieking. In my head, though, I'm breaking dishes. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs. I'm throwing myself on the floor and beating the ground with my fists. I'm jumping into kiddie programs and popping the heads off The Backyardigans. I'm using Muno to bludgeon the rest of the cast of Yo Gabba Gabba. I'm popping every balloon in the world. I'm crying and gibbering and rocking back and forth in the corner. I'm setting fire to all the Thomas trains.

I haven't been to yoga in about two weeks and I'm realizing through its absence in my life just how beneficial it was to me. In that space, all I was worried about was getting through the postures and breathing. I wasn't coming up with a day plan to keep the kids happy and occupied. I wasn't thinking of the groceries I need to buy. I wasn't thinking of which room in the house I should clean first. I had peace for a couple of hours. So THAT'S why my mom was always dragging my brother and I to the Y.

In the meantime, Ethan is screaming again. It's bath time, then bed time. In the morning, we'll do it all again.