Motherhood, insanity and everyday life.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Snap, Crackle, Pop

There are moments in a mother's life, situations that push us over the proverbial edge. Make us meltdown. If we're somewhat balanced and mentally healthy, (I think I am), then this only happens every few months. I'd say that it happens regularly throughout motherhood. Sort of a flushing out of the maternal system.

My last "episode" happened this weekend. I'm not entirely sure what triggered it except that one moment I was collecting dirty laundry and the next I had gathered my children and was having a knock-down screaming fit. It surprised them. It surprised my husband. Heck, it surprised me. I guess the straw that broke the camel's back was when I walked into my son's room. He had been to a dance the night before so I was well-prepared to see his dress pants lying on the floor. What I wasn't prepared for was a dress shirt that he had decided NOT to wear, lying on the floor, unworn, still on the hanger. Suddenly, I could hear the synapses in my tiny brain pop and crack. My vision clouded. Things were thrown. Doors were slammed. There was a roar in my ears. Oh, wait, that was the sound of my own voice bellowing my son's name.

It was in that moment that I knew it was time for reckoning. Time to grab the children and remind them of what they don't do. Needless to say, it wasn't a warm and fuzzy moment. I ran down a laundry list of everything that I am totally sick of - things that I refuse to put up with any longer. Unmade beds, lights left on, siblings hating each other, clothes left on the floor, not pitching in around the house....etc.

Then, I went over the line and reached down into the bag of my mother's cliches. I told my children that they "lived in a resort," that I was "sick and tired" of doing things for them with no reciprocation. I told them that I was "tired of being a maid" and that "things had better change around here" or I would change them and "put things away when you're finished!". Then I just became ridiculous and told them, no yelled at them to "LIKE EACH OTHER." Yeah, that's gonna be effective. Maybe Bush should try that in the Middle East. Sure, I tried to throw in a few "I love you kids" and "I'm happy that you've found a hobby that you love" but they weren't buying it.

As the scene was unfolding, it was almost as if I was watching a movie. My son had a deer in the headlights look about him. My daughter was valiantly trying to stop the smile that was breaking through on her face. I can't say I blame her. I almost laughed at the sound and spectacle of the fury. It was a sight to behold.

Now the question is, did it work? Doubtful. But at least I got it out of my system. My kids knew I was justifiably pissed and someday, down the road, when they have children, they'll know how the pros do it.


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