Hulk Mama: Why I Want to be a Mother with No Red Buttons

  The other day was neurotic!  Well, neurotic might be a slight understatement.  There were lots of tantrums, upset, whining, food throwing, and general noncooperation.  Usually days like this don't phase me.  I deal with the messes as they come, try to keep everyone in relatively good shape, and before I know it, there's a new day that is full of calm.  Oh, but this day was a different breed of bad days.  On top of the madness, I was experiencing what I like to call the fear.  It's when you are so deliriously tired, that you feel as if your brain went on strike, your fine motor skills are more like a joke, and your nerves are raw and exposed.  Yeah, that definitely sums it up.  It was a great day for the kids to act up.  And when I say 'kids,' I really only mean kid, but I don't want to publicly single him out...ahem (River).  He is a passionate kid...which when referring to toddlers, we all know means stubborn and a button pusher.  I love the kid more than life, but he is strong-willed.  He doesn't get away with anything, and he is learning boundaries more and more every day, but this makes him no less of a bruiser. 

  So I was teaching my 3rd grader (yes, I'm crazy and I home school) and the non-stop action was making me feel like an overstimulated baby.  I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter and instead of giving myself a break, giving Israel a short break from his frustration of not being able to concentrate on his school because of the chaos, I exploded.  I had been imploding all day and my feelings came spewing out all over the place.  I was a wreck.  There was yelling, crying (by me, don't worry I didn't hurt anyone), and general discord.  In the moment I thought of myself like Jesus, you know...turning tables at the injustice.  But really, I was more like the hulk with tourette's.  Yes it was awesome.  So after my 2 minutes of glory, and the puke had exited my heart, I felt terrible!  And I should have.  Shame on me for having a moment where my kids are in more control of themselves then their grown mother. 
 
  So I did what any self respecting mother would do, and has done since the beginning of time....I held my children and asked them to forgive that unpleasant sight.   I swore that I wouldn't behave so recklessly in the future, and we vowed to take play breaks to burn off some excess energy when the stress meter seems dangerously overworked.  I was able to teach my children a valuable lesson, albeit the wrong way, yet a lesson nonetheless.

   I want to get to a point where I have no big red emotional buttons that can be pushed.  I want to be so in control of my inner emotions that I can shut the upset down and channel self control, peace, and learn to chill a bit.  I was reminded that whatever I show my children will become their standard in life.  And Lord knows I don't want them to behave the way I did when they are 30.  In fact, we are teaching our 22 month old it's unacceptable to act that way.  What I say in a moment of frustration will become their inner dialogue throughout their lives.  So what will I give them?  Poison that is hand-crafted, or a world of security and reassurance, boosting their hearts to a tree that gives life?  I opt for the latter.  So my epiphany was followed by an apology, the forgiveness of my amazingly graceful children, and then some awesome laughter as my oldest son reenacted how stupid I looked when I was mad. 


(Disclaimer:  No children were hurt in the making of this blog nor did I emotionally scar anyone or say anything abusive or mean.   My blowup was me being a slobbering baby about the lack of cooperation and a grand pity party thrown for myself.  And don't act all haughty...if you're a parent, you've done it too!)