mommy dearest

[sweetsmommy]

mommy dearest

Just seeing those two words together immediately calls to mind the phrase, "NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!" Doesn't it? I can still see in my mind's eye, young Christine scared out of her undies, shaking and crying uncontrollably fearing for her very life, while Joan, or this case Faye Dunaway, screams at her with a maniacal look on her face punctuated by her scary drawn on eyebrows while shaking a wire hanger in her poor daughter's face. That scene became legendary. I was a "tween" when I saw that movie and since my mother was also prone to fits of rage when provoked, it was a long time before I even thought about putting a toe out of line. That movie had the same affect on kids that Fatal Attraction had on men; it scared them straight.

So why am I bringing up this old chestnut from the 80's? Because this past week has been a particularly difficult one for me, in truth this past month has been pretty tough. The Miller household has been operating on red terror alert since the end of March. Tensions have been at an all time high and everyone has been feeling it; even Quincy our cat and he spends the better part of his days outside. Needless to say, this atmosphere does not make for a happy home environment.

Allow me to introduce Exhibit A:

Screaming at your child and pets at the top of your lungs does not in fact scare them into behaving properly; it just scares them and makes them afraid of you.

My rational mind knows this, I mean it's basic rudimentary Parenting 101 type of stuff. But when you've been pushed to the brink of insanity and are trying to avoid causing anyone in your presence physical harm, then screaming seems like the lesser of the two evils. As a kid I sat in abject horror as I watched Joan wail on her daughter and scream at her with such ferocity that I nearly wet myself. But as a mother, I have to say that I can fully understand how you can to "that place." The "dark" place when you become blind with anger and full of rage. And I fear this place. I fear this place because I have always had an exceptionally bad temper and it was always my fear prior to having a child that I might be an abusive parent if I did. After all, my mother had been physically abused as a child and while I would never say that she was an abusive parent, she was often angry, said mean things and did use the belt while administering punishment.  Being "that" kind of mom was always my biggest fear and yet lately I find myself becoming that which I have most feared.

Becoming a mom for someone like me is always going to be a bit of a stretch. I have very little patience; have a low threshold for noise, repetition and mess. These are things that you need in abundance when you're a parent. And you can't just pray for them either, believe me I've tried. You simply have to learn to be more patient and increase your tolerance for noise, repetition and mess. Not at all an easy task I can assure you.  Lately I've begun leaving the room when I feel my temperature rising so that I don't lose it. I count to ten and inhale and exhale slowly. Sometimes these tactics work and sometimes they don't.

When you're down at your almost-3-year olds level telling him to stop doing whatever he happens to being at the time and he refuses to look you in the eye and just laughs instead, well it's hard to keep your cool. When you have to repeatedly pull him off a friend at the park and he retaliates by spitting in your face and hitting you, it's hard to keep your cool. And sometimes I don't. I've been breaking down in tears a lot lately because I feel like I'm losing my mind. I find myself dreaming about what my life was like before I had him more and more. And that breaks my heart because I love him ever so desperately and cannot imagine my life without him.

Daniel is almost 3 and does not yet attend pre-school. I just feel he's too young to start his school career and wanted to wait until he was closer to 3 and a half. But now I'm wondering if being with me all day is more detrimental to him than starting pre-school might be. Maybe we're together too much. I don't know. He gets time-outs for bad behavior. He loses toys for the day if he throws them or mistreats them. He loves meeting his friends at the park, but if his behavior has to be corrected 3 times; we leave. I feel like I'm at my wits end and that I'm losing both the battle and the war. Does anyone else feel this way? Or am I completely alone? Perhaps a good therapist and mood altering medication is the answer. I'll keep you posted. If you have any advice to offer, please do so! I welcome hearing from other moms who managed to find balance in their lives.