Mad
I think every parent wants to be the best they can be. It's not always the fault of the child that things aren't going well.
Most of the time, it's the fault of the parent.
No, really! Kids pick up on moods like black pants pick up cat hair. There's no escaping it. If mommy is cranky, the kids act in a way equal, but opposite, to that crankiness. For example...
Yesterday, Jeremy and I concocted a plan. The plan was that I would go and pick him up early from work, and then we would have a whole extra three hours with him. The plan made me a little giddy. Nothing like having Parent #2 around for an extra three hours.
So, I loaded all the kids up into the car, and sped down the road. I was tired by that point, and not a little cranky, since I had been working on a perplexing project, and only had just thrown it down in disgust 30 seconds before we bolted out the door. So, tension was a little high in the driver's seat.
I got on the freeway, and zoned out in the carpool lane. I was going 80 MPH, so I figured I was fine. It's not like I was in fast lane or anything, but I still got the rushed, obnoxious driver behind me (whom I didn't notice) who felt it incumbent upon himself to jerk out of the carpool lane (shame shame! No leaving the carpool lane!), speed by me, look directly at me and then shake his head, and then proceed to go 1 mile an hour fast than me. In a different lane. I don't get Utah drivers sometimes.
I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. Dude...I was going 15 over in a carpool lane....well, now that I think about it, maybe it was a regular lane, but I don't think so. Either way, it was stupid.
At right about that time, Joshua and Eva decided to have a face pulling contest, and fits of hysterical laughter erupted from the back seat, along with general silliness. I had already opened the cranky door, and now the devil rushed in breaking what fragile self-control I had left in a flurry of devilish glee.
I started uttering threats towards my two eldest that foretold their impending doom if they didn't knock it off. Cue ramping up of rowdiness.
I finally took away everything I could possibly think of to take away from them, with the exception of air, and grumbled to myself as I tried to figure out where I was going.
To keep a long story short, I ended up going too far, had to turn around, discovered there wasn't an off ramp on the southbound side of the freeway, and had to keep going until I could find a place to turn around, and ended up back on another freeway interchange, exited, got back on, and then made my way back to where I was supposed to be, all the while fuming and sparking a little, just waiting for someone to ignite the inferno that I semi-wanted to have happen. Jeremy got an earful of the whole thing while it was going on since he had called me wondering where I was. When I finally made it to the building he was in, Jeremy asked his buddy if he wanted to come and say hi to me and the kids. His response?
"No way! She's mad at you!"
It's probably just as well. I probably would have wiped my boogers on him and then started chucking shoes at his rapidly fleeing form if he had.
I don't know why my temper is so hard to control sometimes. I don't know if it's genetic or situational or both, or if it's just the Adversary following me around pushing my buttons. I HATE that I even have that button.
Maybe it's Dad's fault. I vividly remember running away from him one bright, sunny afternoon. I bolted out of the backdoor and ran my way across the patio, around the curve of the pool, past the lawn, and over the diving board before he caught me. I have no idea what I did. Maybe I was just the little spark that set off his bonfire, I don't know. But maybe that pre-programmed me for wild-eyed frenzies. Or maybe I'm just crank all by myself. Which is a shame.
But, I suppose if Moses got mad out of turn, then someone like me is doomed to random outbursts of lack of patience.
And, I've only had kids for 8 years. Maybe I'll get better with time. Or solitary confinement.
Most of the time, it's the fault of the parent.
No, really! Kids pick up on moods like black pants pick up cat hair. There's no escaping it. If mommy is cranky, the kids act in a way equal, but opposite, to that crankiness. For example...
Yesterday, Jeremy and I concocted a plan. The plan was that I would go and pick him up early from work, and then we would have a whole extra three hours with him. The plan made me a little giddy. Nothing like having Parent #2 around for an extra three hours.
So, I loaded all the kids up into the car, and sped down the road. I was tired by that point, and not a little cranky, since I had been working on a perplexing project, and only had just thrown it down in disgust 30 seconds before we bolted out the door. So, tension was a little high in the driver's seat.
I got on the freeway, and zoned out in the carpool lane. I was going 80 MPH, so I figured I was fine. It's not like I was in fast lane or anything, but I still got the rushed, obnoxious driver behind me (whom I didn't notice) who felt it incumbent upon himself to jerk out of the carpool lane (shame shame! No leaving the carpool lane!), speed by me, look directly at me and then shake his head, and then proceed to go 1 mile an hour fast than me. In a different lane. I don't get Utah drivers sometimes.
I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. Dude...I was going 15 over in a carpool lane....well, now that I think about it, maybe it was a regular lane, but I don't think so. Either way, it was stupid.
At right about that time, Joshua and Eva decided to have a face pulling contest, and fits of hysterical laughter erupted from the back seat, along with general silliness. I had already opened the cranky door, and now the devil rushed in breaking what fragile self-control I had left in a flurry of devilish glee.
I started uttering threats towards my two eldest that foretold their impending doom if they didn't knock it off. Cue ramping up of rowdiness.
I finally took away everything I could possibly think of to take away from them, with the exception of air, and grumbled to myself as I tried to figure out where I was going.
To keep a long story short, I ended up going too far, had to turn around, discovered there wasn't an off ramp on the southbound side of the freeway, and had to keep going until I could find a place to turn around, and ended up back on another freeway interchange, exited, got back on, and then made my way back to where I was supposed to be, all the while fuming and sparking a little, just waiting for someone to ignite the inferno that I semi-wanted to have happen. Jeremy got an earful of the whole thing while it was going on since he had called me wondering where I was. When I finally made it to the building he was in, Jeremy asked his buddy if he wanted to come and say hi to me and the kids. His response?
"No way! She's mad at you!"
It's probably just as well. I probably would have wiped my boogers on him and then started chucking shoes at his rapidly fleeing form if he had.
I don't know why my temper is so hard to control sometimes. I don't know if it's genetic or situational or both, or if it's just the Adversary following me around pushing my buttons. I HATE that I even have that button.
Maybe it's Dad's fault. I vividly remember running away from him one bright, sunny afternoon. I bolted out of the backdoor and ran my way across the patio, around the curve of the pool, past the lawn, and over the diving board before he caught me. I have no idea what I did. Maybe I was just the little spark that set off his bonfire, I don't know. But maybe that pre-programmed me for wild-eyed frenzies. Or maybe I'm just crank all by myself. Which is a shame.
But, I suppose if Moses got mad out of turn, then someone like me is doomed to random outbursts of lack of patience.
And, I've only had kids for 8 years. Maybe I'll get better with time. Or solitary confinement.
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