Tuesday, January 24, 2006


I understand now why there is child abuse.

When you’re ready to go out the door at, say, 9:15am, full of the hope that you will arrive at work before the clock hits double digits (for the first time in a long time,) and instead you don’t leave the house until after 10:30am, it puts a crimp on your day.

Now, far be it from me, of all people, to deny anyone the right to get up on the wrong side of the bed. However, when you have a toddler who arose on the wrong side of the bed, all the damn world knows it.

The screaming could be a clue…the two hour long tantrum of screaming. It’s all because, against my better judgment, I decided to be nice and let him “watch-ey Elmo” while I was getting ready. I guess he decided that because I let him watch Sesame, every other whim and wish should be satisfied immediately. I decide to ignore the unreasonable demands. This decision reaps the whirlwind of fury.

When it was time to get him dressed, I was even nice and brought the accoutrements to the TV so his viewing wouldn’t be compromised. This was not acceptable. Fine! FINE! I said, after trying to reason with him (and wrestle) for twenty minutes, we will go get dressed on the changing table in your room as usual. This is even more unacceptable in his view.

It takes me another twenty minutes to get him changed and dressed. During this time I believe I may have uttered the following phrase:

You’re getting dressed because I am NOT going to jail today for leaving you at
home alone
(even though I want to.)

I do not speak to him as I struggle to get him into his car seat. He whines because instead of music we are going to listen to NPR like I want to (because I am in charge) and I’m not speaking to him anyway.

When we get to Grandpa’s, we alight from the car. I take his hand because I don’t feel like having him run into traffic (it’s not because we’re friends right now, believe me.)

I say to my father “Here, you take him.”

“Oh I’d be happy to!” says chipper Grandpa.

The Traitor runs happily and peacefully into Grandpa’s arms, all smiles and good cheers.

I, all stormy clouds and resentment, head to work.


Azúcar said...

This happened yesterday. As a followup, I repented. I came home from work and we spent some time together reading and playing. All is right with the world.

I thought I'd post this so that other moms know that they aren't the only ones who want to strangle their children sometimes.

(And don't lie to me and say you've never even thought about it, because you have, unless your mind is altered like that Gray's Anatomy lady from Sunday.)

Bek said...

Ummmm, I clearly remember the day when I came to the same conclusion. I was watching a Dateline special about a woman that duct taped her daughter to her high chair. The child was hyper and hard to control.

I remember thinking...hmmmm, duct tape?

I also have been known to tie my childrens feet together in the grocery cart of high chair just to get them to SIT DOWN!! This very scenerio you described is why certian behaviours are never allowed in my house, because if they get one tiny whiff of freedome, they what the whole thing.......

Sorry you had a bad day..glad today is better.

Kiki said...

Doesn't it always end that way? Kid happy with g-pa/g-ma, parent P-I-S-T? No, this doesn't help me to ever want kids. And don't even try to sugarcoat it now. You've done the damage.

c jane said...

It's the brioche -you spoil him with the brioche.

Azúcar said...

Please, Carrie, I am not the one to call kid wanting into question. It took me the better part of a decade to decide I wanted them to begin with. Mornings like that just reinforce those old feelings.

Cjane, tis true. Although in this case twas the banana bread.

more caffeine, please said...

Brand new carpet + a brand new tube of Desetin = mommy crying.

Mixed with a 70 minute commute and meltdown because he wanted a green Otter Pop for dinner and I had every color BUT green frozen and daddy is at a Sundance Film Festival movie.

But because I shrank to the floor crying while he sat in his crib watching me try to scrub it out (didn't work), he was nice the rest of the night.

Rachel said...

kids, kids, kids. can't live with em, can't live without em. or could i? hee...hee....heee....ha.

Azúcar said...

Jaimes, Jaimes, I soooo feel your pain. CJ's so lucky he's so cute, otherwise...I tell you. Mine gave me a roundhouse to the nose the other day that had me thinking it was broken (just bruised, thank you.) I mean, uhm, I ran into a door...

Rachel, I seriously don't understand how you marvelous stay at home moms do it. I do not understand. You must be angelic beings who rise above it all.

I wish I could be a stay at home mom, the other part of me wonders if my offspring would survive :)

Bek said...

Desitin? Uggg. The only thing that I can think of that would be worse is Vaseline. Poor Caffine.

I loved being a working mom. It was just the right mixture of children and adults. Granted, I only had one and she was a baby and my husband worked 100 hours a week. Now, I love being a SAHM, but I keep myself with lots of projects. We all need a different balance.

It is hard either way and both sides have their benefits. :-)