As a mom (I say mom, because dad's don't count for the purpose of this story) we all have those moments that send us over the proverbial edge. I had a fairly uneventful day yesterday, so perhaps this was my payback? It sure felt like it. The kids came in after having dinner with their father, and my older two each had some homework left to finish. No big deal. I helped my daughter with her math while she in turn helped her younger brother with a language arts project. We wrapped things up fairly quickly. After that is when all holy heck broke loose.
I currently have my home office in my bedroom. I don't like this setup, but for now it is what it is. I also only have one computer in my house (also in said bedroom) and everyone uses it. (Well everyone meaning me and the kids.) My preteen daughter likes to use the dressing area in my bedroom to groom herself. I have all my hair care products and tools in a cabinet next to what is possibly the biggest mirror in existence with dressing room lighting above it. I get that it's a good place to groom, however, it is in my bedroom. So as a result, when she decides to groom, it's an invasion of my space. Last night she busted out my flat iron and started straightening her hair. My 8 year old son also decided at the same time that he needed to go online and look up titles for school library books to put on reserve. My 2 year old was busy running around the room, being his usual 2 year old self. At least he's predictable.
I was also trying to do a little grooming of my own....testing out my new curling iron. I realized weeks ago that I didn't own a curling iron so I bought a new one! My room was already like Grand Central Station with all the activity. Couple that with each child deciding at the exact same time that they needed my attention. That's right - three separate moans for "mooooooooom" all while I had a scalding hot piece of equipment in my hands. As you can imagine, the outcome was not good.
I finally screamed out a four letter expletive that I can't repeat on a family friendly blog. But let's just say it starts with "F" and rhymes with truck! The room fell silent as I assessed the damage to my forehead and realized all three kids were staring at my in disbelief. Not so much because of the swearing (I'm not gonna lie, they've heard me say that and possibly worse before), but because they knew I had reached my breaking point.
I managed to pull myself together and calmly asked each child to give me a minute to handle each of their requests separately. And I did, because that's how we moms roll. I'm not proud of my "Mommy Dearest" moment. But I'm only human and it happens. So suck on that! ;-)
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