All Joy, No Fun

I'm listening to a parenting book right now entitled "All Joy and No Fun." I don't read a lot of parenting books because I firmly believe that all children are different and that a stranger isn't going to have the magic answer to make my children the happiest and most successful children on the block or make me a perfect parent. There are no perfect parents.  And really, that's what the book is about. It's NOT a guide to raising your kids, but a look at how modern parenthood (and the role of children) is different now than it ever has been before. It's fascinating stuff.

But that's not why I titled this post "All Joy, No Fun." No, I titled my post that because it perfectly sums up the special little slice that was yesterday morning. It was easily the worst morning I have had as a parent in a very long time.

How bad was it?  It was so bad, that I REALLY wish I had this mug and would have filled it appropriately.

It was BAD. From the moment both kids were awake, they fought with each other and with me. I don't think there was a single statement made that didn't result in an argument.  If something could fought over, it was. It was enough to make both boys cry in anger and frustration and me tear up while trying desperately to keep it together.  Ryan sobbed the whole way to school, prompting me to text his teacher and give her a heads up.

Both boys ended up having very good days at school (go figure) and we actually  pretty pleasant in the evening. We took them to gymnastics and things went pretty well there too. Well, they did until the last 5-10 minutes of class.

The coach had Wesley trying something on the bars that Wesley could not get the hang of. Wesley has done this thing before, but last night, it was just eluding him - which was enough to send him into tears again. He was so frustrated and mad at himself that he cried the whole way home, then curled into a ball on the couch with a blanket over his head. He fought us over taking a shower (which was non-negotiable because he was pretty smelly after gymnastics) and was simply unable to get himself together. It didn't matter what we told him - that everyone makes mistakes sometimes. That he's only on his 4th class and if he could do everything, he'd be the teacher. That even though you have done something once, it doesn't mean you are going to do it right every time. That professional athletes miss passes and kicks and fall just like everyone else.

By the time both boys went to bed, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. All joy and no fun. Some days are like that