The Witching Hour

witchingThe dreadful witching hour. Every mommy knows this term, hates what it encompasses. It’s the time of day when your kids are at their worst, when fights ensue, when tantrums are off the charts, when nothing seems to make anyone happy and the time when you begin to lose control of your household and patience. I’ve found that this witching hour comes in the late afternoon, prior to dinner and after a nap, for the majority of mommies. This is exactly the time in which my perfect days as super mom turn to shit.

Wikipedia gives the following for the terrible and ugly WH: the term witching hour refers to the time of day and night when creatures such as witches, demons and ghosts are thought to appear and to be at their most powerful and black magic to be most effective. It may be used to refer to any arbitrary time of bad luck in which something bad has a greater likelihood to occur. The witching hour from medieval times is the time believed that witches came out to do their “unholy” practices. Women caught out late at night could have been suspected of witchcraft if they did not have a legitimate reason to be out.

This sounds about right. The time in which my sweet little precious babies turn into snarling demons of mess and anger. Their actions become “unholy” practices against their mommy. Everything bad seems to be happening at once. At least this all seems to be the truth through my minds’ eye. I’m always reading articles about how to avoid this hour or pinning Pins titled “Witching Hour Activities” or counting down the minutes until bed time. What is the spell to reverse this evil curse? Maybe the answer was in the form of “possession”? What if I performed my own little version of a séance, trading places with the “demons” looking at the witching hour through my children’s eyes …

By the late afternoon, I am the tired one. The worn out one. By the time the black magic hour rings in I no longer have the desire to teach the alphabet, referee another fight, read the same library book out loud for 10th time, sing the itsy bitsy spider one more time, color, paint or sculpt another Pinterest project. I also don’t feel like cooking dinner after a day of whipping up 8 different meals and 6 separate snacks. I’m stingy with yeses and short with my answers. I’m less likely to hug and more likely to yell.

So who is the witch in this scenario? Is it me or my kids? After all I’m the creature with all the power. Looking through the innocent eyes of my littles, this the time of day that I am allowing my power to become unholy and dark, transpiring a thick black cloud over the house that in turn leads my kids to mirror their mommy. Unfortunately, I’ve come to the realization that I’m the one guilty of “witchcraft” I’m the one who is being a “witchy” (for the use of a better term) mommy. It doesn’t feel good to admit my guilt but it’s a truth I cannot deny. It became clear as I thought back to when Brax was younger. I didn’t recall too many witching hour episodes. But then life began to change. I became pregnant. I became a mommy of three. There was less time for me and more responsibilities. MY days started to get longer and my patience shorter. My little ones weren’t the ones ringing in the witching hour. It was Mommy. They were just following suit, allowing me to take their sunshine away.

It’s time to place blame where it belongs … on myself. Taking that blame and using it as a mommy life lesson, careful not to repeat my past mistakes. Becoming more aware of my reactions, of how I express my moods and feelings and how I respond to my kids just being kids. Making a better attempt at reading their actions and becoming more in tune with their needs. I want to be their afternoon sunshine not their grey clouds to take their happiness away.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine You make me happy when skies are grey You never know, dear, how much I love you Please don’t take my sunshine away

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