Low point.

    This morning I lost my cool and I feel bad. I'm sharing here in the hopes that full disclosure might make me feel better and also because I want this blog to be honest. Everything isn't as beautiful and happy as all our lovely photos would suggest!
    I was taking Art to school, we were running a little late. I unlocked the car, got in my side, Art his. He was having trouble closing his door with his big poofy gloves. In fact, it didn't look like he was really trying.
    "Close the door, Arthur," I quipped.
    "I caaaaaan't," he said in a horribly whiny voice as he pawed the door in vain. "I can't do it, Papa!"
    Parenting is like addition, things add up. Lewis is going through a hitting phase, his little doughy arm cocks back at the slightest infraction. And then Arthur screams for his life and Lewis delights in his new found power. And Jess and I are left feeling a little helpless as we try to sooth crying and hungry babies. And our house is messy, Jessica and I miss each other, we miss Bubbe, Emmit (Bubbe's cat) is unadoptable and a pain in the ass. So sometimes life in our house seems out of control, untameable, overwhelming.
    As Art whined and pawed helplessly at his door with his fat gloves I yelled, "Close the door!"
    "I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't!"
    "Close the doooooooooooooooor!!!" I yelled even louder.
    It was an ugly parenting moment. I knew it, Art knew it. He started crying and said I was really sorry that I had lost my cool. I sighed and we both sat there a minute, door ajar. Then, calmly, we 'practiced' the situation again. He said he couldn't close his door, I reached over and helped him. "Was that better, Art?"
"Yeah," he said pleadingly, as if that's all he wanted in the first place. I reached back and wiped off a tear his face and felt real bad. What a dumb thing to do, to yell at a kid and scare him. Sorry, Art.