I haven't been sleeping much lately - staying up too late, not getting tired until the wee hours. Also, needing that time alone at night to decompress. I've also been setting an alarm in the middle of the night to wake me to get my son to the bathroom - we're working on some pottying stuff.

Anyway, I was set to take the kids out to snack after a lesson this afternoon, but was suggesting something we would all split. My son and I wanted one flavor, my daughter another. I suggested we get the one the two of us wanted this time, and the other flavor the next time. I asked my daughter what she thought of that while parking, then again while getting out of the car. She wasn't responding at all. I asked her why she wasn't answering me, and she said she was thinking. I LOST MY MIND. Told them to get back in their seats and buckle, that I wasn't interested in stopping and paying for a nice snack out if she was going to be ungrateful about it - that deliberating whether she wanted it at all if she couldn't have the exact flavor she wanted just made me not want to do it at all.

We left the parking lot, I was fuming, and my son started to break down from the disappointment. I get he was upset, and I KNOW I should have handled that in a more mature way, but I just didn't have it in me. He started crying, and I was just trying to breathe to get through it. I thought about pulling over, but he started getting hysterical, then he started screaming. I tried counting a few breaths, but it didn't work - I screamed at the top of my lungs with all the air I had left. It stopped his screaming, then I told him to get a grip, that screaming was not a reasonable reaction to missing out on a smoothie. That I understood he was disappointed, but that his reaction was out of proportion. Then, I immediately acknowledged that my reaction was way out of proportion, too.

I pulled over the first chance I got and got out of the car to get some space and breathe, trying to make myself more rational and patient. I was better after that, and was able to talk to them a little more. I said we were headed straight home to get him a snack and for me to calm down.

Now I'm in my bed, under the covers, feeling like the worst parent in the world. And I'm feeling beaten by my own nature. And I'm feeling destructive - like I want something in this world to be as broken as I am, or I want to look as broken as I feel. I f*****g hate this, and me.