A Rough Day

I remember walking into work one day (back at AmEx) and saying to my co-workers/friends "Being a mom is doing wonders to my self-esteem!" Every morning that I dropped my kids off at daycare my daughter would burst into tears as soon as she was released from my arms. (They always reassured me that she stopped crying!- Did that EVER make me feel better?) But the rest of the drive to work was a long, prayerful, mostly tearful one. Every time I drive past that daycare I remember those sorrowful drives. Suffice it to say, these days are much better than those. But watching my kids cry has never gotten any easier. I have just concluded that I am the biggest push-over mom in the world. All my kids have to do is whine a little and I give in to almost anything. Some days I am just too tired to fight. Then there are the days where I feel like nothing but daggers are shooting out my awnry hot head. Lets take yesterday for example... I try not to micro-manage my kids. Exhibit A: If I put food in front of my kids, they've got 30 minutes to eat it and then I clean it up. If they're slow-going, I send out a few warnings, but thats all. So after the warnings went out yesterday, my daughter proceeds to play with her candy necklace, which results in tiny pieces falling all over the floor, to which she scrambles to clean them up as we push away the dog, all the while the clock is yelling we're gonna be late for pre-school, and my sanity slows melts out my ears! (So now we're late to pre-school)... I hastely help pick up candy, referee the dog, pick up my daughter, rush out the garage door (still hastely), and we both go crashing down the stairs onto the grease-stained floor. Tempers now completely flared... I pick up said daughter, (ego bruised, child-abused, feelings-ignored...) throw her in the car and drive like a banshee out of dodge to said pre-school. All the while feeling sick to my stomach (but tempers still flared!), as I watch my daughter crawl out of the car, drag herself up to the school, tears streaming down her face, and consider the inevitable phone call from her school teacher demanding I explain myself. Said phone call never happened. But my stomach was still sick about it all day. In all the irony, her teacher actually did call, but only to set up a year review for Keala. I did ask her however, how Keala was that morning, and she said she cried for a moment saying she hurt herself (enter mom-guilt), and then she was fine. It doesn't matter how many loads of laundry I do, or dishes washed, or floors vacuumed and swept, or toys cleaned up, or bathrooms sanitized, or projects finished (all of which I did yesterday to make myself feel better). I still don't feel better. After 6 years of being a mom, I still can't handle seeing them cry. One good thing is that Keala apologized as soon as she got back into the car for knowing she disobeyed me. But how do I apologize for her ego-bruised, child-abused, feelings-ignored, tear-stained walk into preschool? Hello! Worst mom of the year award, presented to...