Yesterday I had one of those parenting moments I'm not proud of. Soon after it happened, I tweeted my sisters: sometimes I get so mad at my kids I scare myself.
I am aware that every parent is allowed a few of these without totally screwing up their kids. In fact, often they prompt a powerful teaching moment about how sometimes mommies are wrong, sometimes they do things they shouldn't, and can you please forgive.
I sometimes wonder what kind of legacy I'm leaving for my boys. And by legacy I mean what am I doing, cooking, wearing, and saying that is sticking with them for more than their few-minutes-long attention spans. Will they remember me as a grumpy, yelling nag? Will they remember that we had any fun together? I will. But will they?
Later on, a bit after my not-so-proud-moment which included a tearful apology, I said to James, "can we always be best buddies?"
"Sure," he said.
"Because pretty soon it's not going to be the cool thing for you to be best buddies with your mom."
But he reassured me that he still would.
Now it has been documented. I just need to remember to quit yelling and do what it takes to deserve it.