Warren, you are absolutely the sweetest, most wonderful boy I could ask for. Sometimes I worry that I'm not good enough of a mom... I definitely feel like God trusted me a little too much in letting me become yours.
Tonight you were tired. You fell asleep in the car on the way home from Grandma & Duke's house, and it was just about bedtime. When we got inside, I took you to go potty, but you were so groggy and tired that you weren't ready, and just wanted to go back to sleep. You got upset, then I got upset. You cried, and I yelled.
I tell you every time, and I wish there weren't so many of them... but I'm so sorry for losing my temper and yelling at you when *I* am the one who should be able to control myself.
You're three. I'm a few years shy of thirty. I try to keep my cool, but I'm not very good at it. I'm truly sorry for the times when I have just as big of a meltdown as you do. I hope that, when you're old enough to read back on this, you don't remember me as a mean mommy. I want nothing more than for you to feel loved, accepted, and cherished... because you are.
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