Angry Biscuits

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I’m feeling a little ANGRY. Not sure why, but it’s there bubbling away, constantly rearing its evil head and causing me to scar my dear boys for life. Goway anger, you are not welcome here. I thought perhaps writing might channel my thoughts, help me realise today’s been more positive than I’m currently willing to give it credit for. Here goes.

I really didn’t want to go out today, but I knew once I was out in the big noisy world I’d be fine. I spent the morning tidying up washing, colouring in and making a packed lunch for the boys. We headed off to the shop for ear defenders, I’d heard tell of cheapies and we’re hoping for firework fun at the weekend. Then to the Park and Ride, an exciting bus adventure, into town to meet 2 friends with little boys, ladies that lunch, oh yeah! On arrival I had a tricky decision, Laksa or Thai curry, the man let me try them both, I plopped one all down my front, sipping it from a miniscule cup as I don’t want to cause the boys confusion by moving them over to get a spoon. I rubbed my spillage it into my favourite t-shirt, just above the right nipple, I’m pretty sure the lad serving me thought I was hot. We found a large table upstairs, 4 mummy’s with 5 boys, we soon frightened off any quiet, solitude-seeking types. The boys behaved beautifully. Eddie played nicely with a little girl, either side of a glass wall, not a single word passed their lips, they mirrored each other’s head movements and gestures, they put their hands palm to palm, both concentrated and consumed, it was as if they were acting out a love scene from a tacky film. I sat, trying my best to talk to my friends, but admittedly I didn’t feel like I had much to say of worth.

Once home we snuggled, a lot, one on my lap, one tucked up close under my arm, it was cold, damp and dark outside, perfect film and story weather. The boys had a massive bowl of banana each, sprinkled with mini white chocolate buttons, their favourite treat. I secretly shovelled in 3 dry chocolate digestives (I hate dry biscuits but it’s all there was) and peeled chestnuts. I had no reason to feel angry but it was looming. I needed to start cooking dinner, I know that this means the boys are likely to lose focus as I’d been so involved with them until that point. They played nicely for a while, then the manic laughing, the screeching, the pushing, the shoving, the crying all kicked in, I tried my hardest, calmly ignoring them, offering suggestions and help to try to keep them amused. But the screaming, oh the screaming, we’re definitely in a screaming phase, it tots up inside me, like the fuel cells from Monsters Inc, then bam, “ENOUGH, LEAVE EACH OTHER ALONE!” I shouted so loudly my throat felt like it was bleeding. I can’t bear it. I must seem like a monster, how awful, how terrifying for my poor boys. But I can’t control it, I instantly regret, it’s often followed by tears, mine, and it will happen again, but I hate it. I want to be coy, calming, soothing, which I can be, but I want to be it all the time. Does everybody boil over, or have times when they constantly boil over, putting the fear of God into their tiny, beautiful children? Now then, today we bought ear defenders, for fireworks, fortunately Ruru loves his, if the dragon inside my chest bursts out again tomorrow I may try and encourage him to wear them all day, no wonder he hates loud noises. Must try harder Ami, that’s what the teacher would write on my paper, if today was a piece of school work.

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