For the first time, I
lost my cool with my child. I swore at her. Directly at her. Out of anger,
frustration, exhaustion. And not even under my breath.
From the moment the
words came out of my mouth [and after I got, 100% correctly, admonished by
Megan for it] I felt horrible about what I’d done. I’ve never felt more guilty,
more awful, about anything I’ve said to another human being. To make it worse,
it came not half-an-hour before I was going out of town for a week, so I would have to wait
six days before I could hold her in my arms, cuddle her and make it up to her.
It was 3.50am on a
Monday. Alice was sick with a stuffy nose [yes, she was sick and I
still lost my s**t. Nice, right?] and had not slept well at all. She’d woken up at least once
an hour, every hour, and I hadn’t slept since 11pm. I was at the end of my
usually long tether. And I lost my cool.
I had just taken
Alice and put her into bed with Megan in the hope that she would go to sleep
and that I could get ready to leave for the airport. But she didn’t. She sat
bolt upright, and showed complete disinterest in sleeping. That’s when the
words came out. I was just so desperate for her -- and for Megan -- to get some
sleep. Admittedly, I also wanted just a little respite from what had been a nightmare of a night. But it's no excuse. Not in the slightest.
In that immediate guilt
I picked her up right away, held her in my arms her and jumped into the spare
bed in her room with her. I tickled her tummy and kissed her what felt like a thousand
times. I just wanted her to know that I loved her, and that I had messed up.
It’s definitely the
lowest point for me as a dad. And it’s something I won’t allow myself to do again.
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