Disturbing events in my household this evening, at least from the point of view of my mental health.
I managed to stick a bread knife through a baby bottle as a result of being frustrated by the packaging.
Luke, our youngest, was crying his little nut off in a sort of stroppy, demanding sort of way wanting fed. I was trying to open a brand new baby bottle and fumbling around with the stupid cellophane that everything is wrapped in these days. After a few seconds I flipped my lid and decided that a very big knife was required - and not just that but a bloody fierce stabbing motion to boot.
So hardly surprising really that I managed to render the bottle useless as a result of my extreme loss of patience. Of course I'm a bit annoyed about wasting 5 quid - for a moment I contemplated taking the thing back and claiming it was defective until I quickly realised that it was my reasoning that was so. What is more distressing though, is what the act represents in my mind, even if it was an unintentional moment of madness. I mean, stabbing a baby bottle with a bread knife - that's not good.
It's been coming for a while now as I've noticed that my temper has been getting shorter and shorter lately. It doesn't show so much at work but at home, when I'm tired and the kids are being kids, well ... sometimes it feels like rage is a little too close for comfort.
I understand where it comes from of course, as having three kids, 2 of of whom are boys under 3, isn't easy. Work is stressful and I have been biting off a little more than I can chew lately, so I think the right brain is quitting early and letting left brain kick out the jams.
I think the lesson is pretty clear though and well worth the £4.99 psychiatric fee. Learn some patience, do less for others and more for my family and stay the hell away from crappy packaging in the presence of sharp implements.