An Especially Human Moment

Today I snapped in front of the kids I babysit. I'm not talking annoyed babysitter snap, I'm talking on the verge of tears "do you understand why I'm frustrated?!" It was just one of those days. You know what I'm talking about: tired, frustrated, impatient, and ready to snap by 5:00 pm. My job is really pretty easy; I help with homework and remind the kids to stay on task. They're old enough to be mostly independent, but young enough to have short-lived attention spans. But today was one of the days filled with constant reminders, rhetorical questions, and nagging. I'm used to the nagging and reminder part; with a kid who is ADHD, it's an everyday routine. But some days require more attention and close supervision than others and today happened to be one of those days for him and his brother. Anticipation for a three day weekend was practically buzzing inside them. Me too, quite honestly. My patience was already worn thin and each time I said a name or reminder, my tone sounded increasingly annoyed. Maybe I would have been fine had I not spent an entire class trying to lead and maintain an audience of over 50 girls, practically prodding along songs we have had since August. That was the third class in a row our teacher had been occupied with something else she was in charge of and couldn't help direct the class. I am given the responsibility to take over in situations like these and today turned out to be the day where it was "okay" to make coffee in the middle of class, sit on your phone and not sing or sit and sing with no real intent, and leave for the bathroom and come back 20 minutes later or maybe not at all. A real sob story, I know. But when over half the class is composed of people who have channeled their inner 7th grader, you start to feel a tinge of annoyance. I know they're highly capable and I've seen their responsibility but today just wasn't the day for that, apparently. A few other things following that wore on my patience more and my blood sugar was beginning to plummet after no time to eat lunch. By the time I went to wait to pick up children from school, I was feeling on edge and very aware of it. My week leading up to this point pretty much consisted of tired and busy and still tired and even busier. I tried so hard to be patient and understanding but I had a human moment. After several reminders that it was still a Thursday and the rule was still no screen time, despite there being a three day weekend, and continued playing on the computer, I had them go downstairs and asked them to think of things they could do besides play on the computer. A snide "hm let's think... nothing!" just breached my limit. I have never had a moment with these kids where I have been as frustrated and keen to tell them why they weren't allowed screen time as today. I really snapped; I didn't yell, but my voice raised a couple notches and I struggled to keep an even tone rid of frustrated shaking. And I told them off. I told them why screen time is limited and why it's good for them to think of ideas beyond computer games. I told them to really come up with a list of ideas and I finished with what I started: "do you understand why I am [might be] frustrated?" I have never heard as much silence for as long as I did today after I finished and went upstairs again. I don't even think I felt much better afterward and I was very aware of how human I was at that moment. I apologized later, but my weaknesses were so stark and clear at that moment, I couldn't and still can't stop thinking about it. Even with the gracious help of a God and Savior, I fumbled and dropped the ball. I don't think I have experienced such vulnerability many times like the way I did today and the kids weren't even part of my family. Heaven knows I need help and so do I.