Discouraged.

I always have a full plate. I'm always stressed. I'm always overwhelmed. I'm TRYING to find more of a balance to my life, and in the past week, I really felt like things were turning around. I felt like a better, stronger, more confident parent. I felt like I was more attentive at work. My faith felt stronger and I just felt more driven every day.

And then I don't know what happened, but yesterday it all fell apart. I could feel the agitation and stress mounting, and Bebe was engaging in her normal Sunday whinefest (I have tried EVERYTHING to avoid this, but every. single. Sunday. she whines, complains, etc. It's our only whole day as a family and she's always complaining and whining). And, fed up with it all, for the umpteenth week in a row, I said something that I shouldn't have said. I didn't say it directly to her, but I said it nonetheless, and she heard it.

The second I heard her small voice pipe up from her room, "I heard that." I was crushed. I was crushed because I knew that SHE was crushed. And in that moment, I felt like such a complete and abysmal failure. (I am tearing up just writing this.) I feel like I am going to never be the kind of parent I want to be. I can puff my chest out and tell you I feel proud of my "whatever works" method, but what I don't tell you enough is that I fall short a lot. It's not about being GOOD ENOUGH, sometimes it's just about being GOOD. I apologized to her, I let her know that I was genuinely sorry, and our day went on... but the fact of the matter is, I should've never said what I did. I should've never THOUGHT what I did.

I'm so disappointed in myself. But Sundays have become awful, and I feel like there's no light at the end of the tunnel--they're never going to get better. We follow the same pattern every week, it seems. We get up and go to Mass. At Mass Dois fusses and Bebe is always trying to play with him (which pisses him off so he screeches), D and I spend most of Mass telling her to calm down and pay attention, or stand up straight, or sit right, or follow along, as we're handing crackers, crayons, tissues, WHATEVER to Dois to keep him occupied... We come home for lunch... and it's during this time that the whining kicks in full-force. She's bored. She wants a playdate. She doesn't want to do whatever we have planned (we always plan something for Sunday afternoon/night--a trip to a museum, the beach, etc.). She drags her feet and refuses to join us for whatever, protesting nonstop, etc. Then D gets frustrated and I get upset and we all wind up fighting... And then miraculously everything is resolved because we drag Bebe along and she always winds up enjoying what we're doing.

I just want a happy family--I want Sundays to be enjoyable and to SKIP those blow-ups. The thing is, I don't know how....