Godzilla Mom

"The circumstances of your life will combine in such a way as to grant you possession of a great many lemons. However, all the advice you receive regarding their purpose will be useless and trite."

It seems the gifts I lack in art, driving, motivation and hand-eye coordination, I more than make up for in terrorizing my children. The last image burned in my skull from this morning is that of my 5 year old with those long black eyelashes fluttering over horror-filled eyes.... tears staining his sweet little sparsely freckled face.

Is it my fault he was off of school for a ridiculously unnecessary 2-1/2 weeks? Hardly. But I s'pose it's possible I didn't have to traumatize him with my banshee-esque shrieks of "MAMA HAS TO GO TO WORK! DO YOU WANT ME TO BE FIRED!?!?!? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? HUH? YOU'D JUST LOVE IT IF I COULDN'T COME HOME UNTIL WELL AFTER 7PM BECAUSE YOU WON'T LET GO OF MY GOD-FORSAKEN LEG, WOULDN'T YOU!?!?!? WOULDN'T YOU!?!?!? SHY? YOU'RE SHY!?!? I'LL SHOW YOU SHY!!!!".... Yeah... I kinda suck. Actually, I TOTALLY suck. The poor guy already had his little world turned upside down the day before when I left him in a strange home for 10 hours. He had bottled up all the nerves and insecurities throughout the day as I was checking on him - being a l'il trooper and trying to stay positive so I wouldn't worry. Man, I seriously suck!

For no known reason and lacking any real justification, I woke up on the brink of a temper tantrum. As I chose to slack off for those same aforementioned 2-1/2 weeks, I had to rush the kiddos into getting ready so I could help the oldest with his homework before throwing him mercilessly back to Kindergarten. This "homework" was to practice writing the letter "B" followed by drawing 5 pictures of words that start with it. He had barely scribbled the first letter when Jekyll promptly went all Kool-Aid man on the unsuspecting munchkin... "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? LOOK AT THAT... LOOK AT IT! DO YOU EVEN TRY!? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME YOU MADE AN OUNCE OF EFFORT ON THAT ONE! THOSE LINES LOOK LIKE THEY WERE VOMITED OUT BY A COKED-UP SQUIRREL!!!" (I should mention the little one was meanwhile standing nearby giggling and only fueling this out-of-control wildfire). In my defense, all this carrying on clearly scared him into trying harder on the next letter.... But seriously. If court-ordered anger management isn't in my near future, the lovely sanitarium downtown sure as shit is!

I'm heavily embarrassed to admit I have a terribly trigger-happy temper. When you couple that with rice-paper-thin patience, even I know that's a recipe for disaster.... That's about the ONLY recipe I know, but you get the point. I love my children. More than life itself. Why, then, are they able to push my buttons with the flick of a switch? That would imply they have any fault in all of this - which they don't. They're really pretty damn good kids, even if the little one is a pint-sized ball of trouble-waiting-to-happen. In my quest to adjust everything I am to a life I never envisioned having, I fall miserably short. Time and time again.

I recently read an article in some parenting magazine (don't get too excited, there - it was a free copy that was rather suggestively tossed in with a bunch of macaroni art fashioned by the wee one.... subtle, no?) about a woman who lived abroad as a Buddhist for the greater portion of her life before making a late-in-life leap to motherhood. She indicated that many of the principles she had learned in her adventures directly applied to the challenges she now faced. One of these was absolute brilliance. In fact, I distinctly remember a light bulb turning on just above my big hair as I read it. I read it over and over again and even recited it quietly aloud. A sort of second chance. In her example, she mused ("mused" - I'd still be punching walls just recalling such flagrant disrespect for my property!) about when her now-3-year-old had colored with markers all over her new couch and further shouted at her mommy when caught in the act. The mother ALLEGEDLY calmly told the girl "Let's take a deep breath and try this again". She asked the child to rewind to 5 minutes prior to doing this deed to see if she would make the same choice again. Nope. Lessons were learned and there were most likely ticker tape parades and a magical downpour of candy treats which followed. But the notion of allowing a child to correct the errors of their ways by simply giving them another chance. A do-over. An odd concept, yes?

Now all I have left to do with all this new found enlightenment is embark upon a journey to find a quick bomb diffuser for this temper of mine! There's simply no writing off what a terrible brat I was this morning... truly - there have most likely (read: DEFINITELY) been many of these mornings, afternoons, evenings and/or middle-of-the-night-episodes with similar results. Methinks I'm the one who needs to take it down a notch and grovel to the kiddos for a second chance! *sigh*

5 comments:

  1. I always say if my youngest, who is also my 2nd son, was my first, he'd have been an ONLY child.

    But he has taught me a lot. And one of the lessons was PATIENCE! Oh, I still need reminders now and again! And he's 14!


    But hang in there, it DOES get better!

    The most IMPORTANT thing to remember is we're ONLY human!

    P.S. Found you via All Fooked Up

    ReplyDelete
  2. HA! I love that! (And I can certainly relate to your first sentiment!)... Thank you so much for your kind words and support! The little munchkin called me when he got home from school with his dad this afternoon - he explained to me that he just had a "rough time" going back after such a long break. If I didn't feel like a jerk before, I sure did after that sweet l'il conversation! :) But you're right - we're human and we do the best we can! Love that you found me through All Fooked Up! Such a great blog! Hope you'll come back! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. HA! I'm somewhere between 2 and 12 steps ahead of you! Fear not! There's a box of wine in the 'ol garage fridge that promises calm, cool, collected class... OR, dancing on the coffee table - it's really sixes, yes? ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Good ol boxed wine to the rescue ;-)

    ReplyDelete

Kitty

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Godzilla Mom

"The circumstances of your life will combine in such a way as to grant you possession of a great many lemons. However, all the advice you receive regarding their purpose will be useless and trite."

It seems the gifts I lack in art, driving, motivation and hand-eye coordination, I more than make up for in terrorizing my children. The last image burned in my skull from this morning is that of my 5 year old with those long black eyelashes fluttering over horror-filled eyes.... tears staining his sweet little sparsely freckled face.

Is it my fault he was off of school for a ridiculously unnecessary 2-1/2 weeks? Hardly. But I s'pose it's possible I didn't have to traumatize him with my banshee-esque shrieks of "MAMA HAS TO GO TO WORK! DO YOU WANT ME TO BE FIRED!?!?!? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? HUH? YOU'D JUST LOVE IT IF I COULDN'T COME HOME UNTIL WELL AFTER 7PM BECAUSE YOU WON'T LET GO OF MY GOD-FORSAKEN LEG, WOULDN'T YOU!?!?!? WOULDN'T YOU!?!?!? SHY? YOU'RE SHY!?!? I'LL SHOW YOU SHY!!!!".... Yeah... I kinda suck. Actually, I TOTALLY suck. The poor guy already had his little world turned upside down the day before when I left him in a strange home for 10 hours. He had bottled up all the nerves and insecurities throughout the day as I was checking on him - being a l'il trooper and trying to stay positive so I wouldn't worry. Man, I seriously suck!

For no known reason and lacking any real justification, I woke up on the brink of a temper tantrum. As I chose to slack off for those same aforementioned 2-1/2 weeks, I had to rush the kiddos into getting ready so I could help the oldest with his homework before throwing him mercilessly back to Kindergarten. This "homework" was to practice writing the letter "B" followed by drawing 5 pictures of words that start with it. He had barely scribbled the first letter when Jekyll promptly went all Kool-Aid man on the unsuspecting munchkin... "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? LOOK AT THAT... LOOK AT IT! DO YOU EVEN TRY!? LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME YOU MADE AN OUNCE OF EFFORT ON THAT ONE! THOSE LINES LOOK LIKE THEY WERE VOMITED OUT BY A COKED-UP SQUIRREL!!!" (I should mention the little one was meanwhile standing nearby giggling and only fueling this out-of-control wildfire). In my defense, all this carrying on clearly scared him into trying harder on the next letter.... But seriously. If court-ordered anger management isn't in my near future, the lovely sanitarium downtown sure as shit is!

I'm heavily embarrassed to admit I have a terribly trigger-happy temper. When you couple that with rice-paper-thin patience, even I know that's a recipe for disaster.... That's about the ONLY recipe I know, but you get the point. I love my children. More than life itself. Why, then, are they able to push my buttons with the flick of a switch? That would imply they have any fault in all of this - which they don't. They're really pretty damn good kids, even if the little one is a pint-sized ball of trouble-waiting-to-happen. In my quest to adjust everything I am to a life I never envisioned having, I fall miserably short. Time and time again.

I recently read an article in some parenting magazine (don't get too excited, there - it was a free copy that was rather suggestively tossed in with a bunch of macaroni art fashioned by the wee one.... subtle, no?) about a woman who lived abroad as a Buddhist for the greater portion of her life before making a late-in-life leap to motherhood. She indicated that many of the principles she had learned in her adventures directly applied to the challenges she now faced. One of these was absolute brilliance. In fact, I distinctly remember a light bulb turning on just above my big hair as I read it. I read it over and over again and even recited it quietly aloud. A sort of second chance. In her example, she mused ("mused" - I'd still be punching walls just recalling such flagrant disrespect for my property!) about when her now-3-year-old had colored with markers all over her new couch and further shouted at her mommy when caught in the act. The mother ALLEGEDLY calmly told the girl "Let's take a deep breath and try this again". She asked the child to rewind to 5 minutes prior to doing this deed to see if she would make the same choice again. Nope. Lessons were learned and there were most likely ticker tape parades and a magical downpour of candy treats which followed. But the notion of allowing a child to correct the errors of their ways by simply giving them another chance. A do-over. An odd concept, yes?

Now all I have left to do with all this new found enlightenment is embark upon a journey to find a quick bomb diffuser for this temper of mine! There's simply no writing off what a terrible brat I was this morning... truly - there have most likely (read: DEFINITELY) been many of these mornings, afternoons, evenings and/or middle-of-the-night-episodes with similar results. Methinks I'm the one who needs to take it down a notch and grovel to the kiddos for a second chance! *sigh*

5 comments:

  1. I always say if my youngest, who is also my 2nd son, was my first, he'd have been an ONLY child.

    But he has taught me a lot. And one of the lessons was PATIENCE! Oh, I still need reminders now and again! And he's 14!


    But hang in there, it DOES get better!

    The most IMPORTANT thing to remember is we're ONLY human!

    P.S. Found you via All Fooked Up

    ReplyDelete
  2. HA! I love that! (And I can certainly relate to your first sentiment!)... Thank you so much for your kind words and support! The little munchkin called me when he got home from school with his dad this afternoon - he explained to me that he just had a "rough time" going back after such a long break. If I didn't feel like a jerk before, I sure did after that sweet l'il conversation! :) But you're right - we're human and we do the best we can! Love that you found me through All Fooked Up! Such a great blog! Hope you'll come back! :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. HA! I'm somewhere between 2 and 12 steps ahead of you! Fear not! There's a box of wine in the 'ol garage fridge that promises calm, cool, collected class... OR, dancing on the coffee table - it's really sixes, yes? ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Good ol boxed wine to the rescue ;-)

    ReplyDelete