Yesterday was a rough day. More honestly, 11 am until 11:15 was an excruciating 15 minutes. The kind of 15 minutes that can ruin an entire day.

Bear had gone to a friend's house to play while I had taken Monkey to his tumble class.

Monkey and I went in to get him. He refused to leave. Like no joke bones turned to jello, laying on the floor and screaming.

I tried to be patient with him. I finally got his shoes and coat on and grabbed Monkey. We've just stepped outside when Bear loses it again.

Screaming at me.
In the middle of the street.
In the pouring rain.

I can't just walk away. He's in the middle of the street.
I can't pick him up and carry him. I holding a squirmy Monkey and Bear is thrashing about.

A car starts coming down the street.

So I screamed at Bear. As loud and as harshly as I could.
I told him to get in the car. I told him to stop embarrassing me. I told him he was being hateful and I was done putting up with it.

I strapped them in their car seats and climbed in. And, then I cried. I made my 3 year old cry. I had lost control of him and myself. I was showing it was okay to scream and be hurtful when you're upset.

I had failed.

A few hugs, two apologies and a few hours later, we were back to normal. We're learning this 3 year old thing together. This is my first time parenting a 3 year old boy and it's his first time being one. We're going to have some mistakes along the way. We're going to have some hurt feelings. That's how it goes. It's my job to raise him up. I remind myself it's a process that takes years. God has chosen me to be his momma. And as long as we have love and forgiveness, we'll be just fine in the end.