"Can't you both just say sorry?"

We were doing math at the kitchen table.
My week off, technically.

One of my twins was tired. The other one wanted to do the exercises, so the tired one got pulled into it.

"You're not helping me," he said.
So I helped.
Then he'd pick up his car and start playing.
"You're not helping me."
I'd help. The car again.

I was tired too. Overstimulated.
And I lost it.
I grabbed the pen in my hand and snapped it in half.

And suddenly I could see what was happening.

So I went upstairs, lay on the bed, and tried to get my body to come down off it.

You already know you lost it. You don't need telling.

The problem is what happens after.

You know you need to go back, but you don't feel calm yet.

So you stay away. Breathe. Wait. Try to get yourself into a state where you can be trusted in the room again.

And the longer I lay there trying to become the calm one, the further away she seemed to get.

A lot of parenting advice starts with the same instruction:

Calm down first. Take a breath. Regulate before you go back in.

So you start treating calm like the entry fee. Pay it, then you're allowed back to fix things.

But I have never once breathed my way calm on the really bad days.
I lie there and wind myself up tighter, because now there are two things to feel bad about instead of one.

I lost it.

And apparently I'm also failing at calming down.

So this time I came back down before I felt completely ready.
Not calm.
Just calm enough that I knew I wasn't going to make it worse.

"I'm not completely calm… but I don't want to leave you alone wondering what's going on."

And then I stayed, still half in it.

My other son, the one who wasn't even in the fight, looked at the two of us and said:

"Can't you both just say sorry?"

After everything I'd been doing upstairs trying to get into the perfect state to repair!

I looked at my tired one and said:

"I'm sorry. Can we have a do-over? I hope you can forgive me when you're ready."

I said it before I was calm.
And then I was calm.

Next time you step away after losing it, notice what you're waiting for.

If you're still likely to yell, throw something or make it worse, stay out.

But if you're waiting because you think you need to become perfectly calm before you're allowed back in, try going back as you are.

You can even say it:
"I'm still worked up. But I don't want to leave this sitting between us."