On not my best day... (or worst), and homework

I took Brown-eyes with me to the coffee shop, because I needed to get out of the house. I needed to write, and he needed to finish his homework.
It was fine for about 5 minutes ...

...and now I want to kill him. 

If you will draw your attention to the collective locations of hand, pencil and homework sheet

But that's kind of what getting Brown-eyes to do homework is like any time.
I got through three hours of it last weekend by putting everything else aside and reminding myself (like every 3 seconds) that this is what I wanted. This is what I wanted. this is what I wanted. this is what i wanted... And also, thinking about the kind of parent I wanted to be. One who yelled at my kids to "fucking focus for a second!"or one who says, "good job! next problem."
He's so fun and bright and silly and imaginative. Which also means he lives in his own little universe, with Luke Skywalker and Spinning Shark and most of all BB-8, in which he is a superhero, and a scientist, and nothing anyone else says is as loud as the voices he creates in there. All great things when he's not being asked to focus on something less interesting, like subtraction or picking up his toys.
And, I know. I know, this story is every parent of a creative 6 year old in the history of modern life.

The problem for me, is the constant buzz in my brain. The disquieting white noise of everything that came before this good life. It's not just irritating or frustrating to me. It's triggering. Why? I don't really know. When I think about it with my pre-frontal cortex, the part of my brain that controls logical thought, I do... to some limited extent.
Children have to be taught modulation. And I was not only lacking this modeling and help but also constantly pushed further and further beyond my ability to cope. So my 0-60 on calm to agitation to rage is... almost instantaneous. It's like a baby's. I'm learning not to throw grown ass tantrums in the form of threatening, manipulative, forceful speech, verbal listing of every one of the nearest target (usually Handsome)'s personal flaws , obsessing over mundane tasks that "apparently nobody is capable of handling other than me", picking unrelated fights (and sometimes breaking things or melting down too).  But that means tolerating the real problem. Body memory. Physical sensations. Feeling things I don't want to and never should have had to.

I'm trying. I've snapped a couple of times. Taken lots of deep breaths. Gotten Brown-eyes down for 20 jumping jacks after each line of math

 breathed in the smell of his shampoo and soaked up the silky feel of his hair during his all to frequent "Brown-eyes needs a hug" breaks. Because those things are grounding, for both of us. In a time, when we are both feeling a bit overwhelmed with the tasks at hand : homework and learning to tolerate body memory while staying in the present.

granted, it's on out of about 6, but... we celebrate the baby steps around here (like the fact that I haven't slapped my hand on the table in front of his distracted face, even once this study day)

And of course, engaging that damn cortex by writing all about the process. Feel free to tell me I'm doing a great job! I thrive on encouragement ;) yeah, wink, wink... but no, seriously.