Psycho Mommy

I usually get feedback about my sweet gentle nature. And it is true, I do have a gentle, meek component to my personality and in my parenting style. But I'm not always sweet and patient. Sometimes, I lose my cool just a tad and sometimes I blow a gasket. Yesterday, gaskets a plenty were blown by yours truly. And in honor of my quest to be an honest mom, here's the story. Please tell me that you relate.

I wish I could say that while chaos loomed I jumped into a phone booth, whirled around a few times and came out caped in red and holding a lasso while balancing a little gold crown on the top of my head. Instead my car was the capsule for my identity change into the villainous variety.

Here is the scene - we were driving home from Super K-mart and Z-man was being a Mr. Fussypants. Pumpkindoodle was doing her best to turn her brother's frown upside down, which entailed singing in high octaves. We'll call her Super Screecher just to stay on the comic book theme.

I'm not a commotion person, so my nerves were a bit frayed from the get-go. But it usually takes more than some crying and loud screeching...Uh singing...to turn this mild mannered gal into...da-da-da...Psycho mom. Yes, folks, it takes a balloon. A blue latex balloon from Chick-Fil-A to be exact.

As I was driving, I noticed that I was in the the far left lane and needed to make a right turn. That wasn't gonna happen without endangering the lives of my precious cargo, so I stayed left and stopped at the traffic light...one of those three-minute light stops that further inscensed Z-man. After I got the green go-ahead, I drove up to the next open median to make a U-turn. While this was happening, Pumpkindoodle, AKA Super Screecher, lets go of the aforementioned balloon several times causing it to hinder my vision.

I issued a firm warning of sorts..."Hold on to that balloon! Mommy cannot see and I am at a dangerous spot."

My warning was ignored and the balloon is released several more times. I decide to issue a further reprimand. "HOLD THAT BALLOON DOWN AND DO NOT LET IT GO."

She decided that giving the balloon to her whining brother will do the trick and cheer him up. So ignoring mommy, who obviously is beginning to unravel, the balloon is handed to a one-year-old who....lets go of it. Said balloon floats in-front of my face just as I was about about to make the U-turn.

Without any twirling or costuming, Psycho Mommy flings into action, rolls down the window and says "Bye-Bye Balloooooooooon, Fly to freedom." Yes, I really said..actually to my embarrassment screamed those very words. As they say in the South...I done gone up and lost it!

Pumpkindoodle and Z-man squawked with grief. Pumpkindoodle lamented how much she loved her balloon and that her balloon was a friend and was now gone forever.

Did her sweet mommy respond with words of comfort? Heck no. Because sweet mommy was held captive my Psycho Mommy.

"Well... that's what happens when you don't listen to me," bellowed Psycho Mommy! Would you rather have your balloon or be in the hospital? Yes, I know...Psycho Mommy doesn't make much sense does she?

So, while Alan Jackson is singing hymns, my children are sobbing and my shaking hands are trying to guide the steering wheel. About 500,000 deep breaths later, we arrive home.

Psycho Mommy has left the building and I tell PD that I am sorry for losing my temper. She forgives me and we talk about the importance of balloon safety.

Now, to read a story of when I was in another stressful road situation but refrained from being Psycho, please click here.

Let me just close on this note...I am so thankful that I serve a God who gives me second chances and that my identity is not in my mistakes as a parent, but in His love and mercy. Thank you Jesus. And those of you without children who think I am plain evil, please don't call CPS on me. I promise you, Psycho Mom doesn't come out too often.

(And by the way...I kind of disagree with my hubby's humorous post above...I like putting duckies on Z-man)