I'm THAT mom.

I did it. I committed one of the cardinal sins of mom-hood.

I yelled at somebody's kids at the playground.

And really, all I want to do is justify it to make myself feel better, but what's the point? I overreacted and yelled at someone's kid. I never thought in a million years I'd be the one to do that, but I did. I had maxed out on patience with Abby today for several reasons and in effort to take a break Jesse and I took Abby to the Carl's Jr. play place. There was one group there of three moms and four kids, and those kids were OUT OF CONTROL. In a relatively small enclosed room, with several kids screaming like banshees, it seemed all too easy to get impatient. But so far I had done okay. But then I heard Abby at the top of the playground crying, "I'm scared! I'm scared!" So I immediately walked over to where I could see her to try to find out the problem. She wanted to go down the slide, but ALL four of the kids were standing at the bottom SCREAMING up the slide so she was scared to come down. Before my rational side could take over, I ran to the slide and forcefully yelled at the kids to stop screaming because they were scaring my daughter from coming down the slide. Every person in Carl's Jr. stopped to look at me. And I could feel the eyes of those moms glaring at me too. But really? When your children are traumatizing other children from enjoying the facility and screaming so loudly that nobody can think or talk to each other, wouldn't you say something to them?
At the time I didn't care. But as the night has continued, I feel like crawling in a hole. Somehow writing about it makes me feel like not such a bad person. Everybody makes mistakes, right? I just haven't figured out how to learn from others' mistakes. I have to be the obnoxious nazi playground mom.
It'd be nice if they could have looked at me and said, "Oh, she's pregnant and looks tired and exasperated. She probably has a lot on her mind." But by the way they looked at me after... I'm going to say not.
So if it was your kids I yelled at, I'm sorry. I really am. It was inappropriate and since I've done it once, I hope that means I'll never do it again.

Temper tantrum

A tantrum is an emotional outburst of ill humor or a fit of bad temper wherein the 'higher' cognitive functions are unable to stop the emotional expression of the putative 'lower' (emotional and physical) functions. -- Wikipedia

It also adds that it is characterized by angry ranting, screaming, defiance, and resistance to pacification. That is definitely me. I don't necessarily cry and scream, but angry ranting and resistance to pacification is great.

You thought this was about Abby, didn't you?

I threw a version of my temper tantrum tonight. Crazy high emotions that take over the rational side of my brain yelling at me to stop. I've had a temper ever since I can remember. From the time I five-starred Seth's toddler back to my DAILY after school shout matches with my mom to even now with Jesse. I don't punch or five-star anymore, but I definitely have an acidic attitude, emotion, and sarcasm that create searing emotional pain. I never realized how bad or inappropriate it was until I married Jesse and he met the real me during our first year. Poor boy. If I were to get in a fight with my siblings now, I'd definitely lose. Thanks to my husband, I've lost a lot of my fight. Really, I do thank him. But that temper is still there and waits to pounce. Like tonight.

So no, I won't tell you what the tantrum was about. It's my first for the year and I hope it's my last. New Year's Resolution: no more temper and DEFINITELY no more "tantrums"....

When I'm 80, you can ask me how this resolution fared.

Three stories

#1 I either got really brave... or really stupid. I cut my bangs again. Straight across at my eyebrows. So I now have long straight dark hair with severe bangs. The funny thing is that I can't get them to totally straighten. I've tried product and everything and they either stick straight off my head or they have a bit of a curl to it like when we were in sixth grade. BAH. I wish I had a great celebrity picture or even a pic of me to demonstrate this bizarre action I decided to take.

Everyone says it's cute though. Let's hope they're all being honest. (I just need to get used to them)

#2 We are officially on day three of potty training. Abby has been in pull-ups for two months and totally knows how to use a potty. She just doesn't want to. Jesse and I decided that with another babe coming we do NOT want to be paying $80 each month for diapers. So one of them has to stop. We borrowed some padded underwear from my mom from my days of potty training, and starting Monday morning Abby has been in these underwear. The padded underwear just absorbs more when they have accidents. I HATE accident clean-up. Padded underwear are good for sanity. Anyway, so this is the point of the story: Abby refused to go #2. I hope you're okay with that term. We have bribed in every way possible to get her to, but she just wouldn't. My mom told me about her cousin who had twins first and when she potty trained them... she put them in cold water when they had accidents. I don't think this is abuse. With Abby, we HAVE to use extremes or she doesn't care. So Monday morning, five minutes after I had just taken her to the potty, she pooped in her underwear. So into the cold bath we went! Come on folks, it was only 1 inch deep and I only made her sit in it long enough to wipe her off. So like 20 seconds. She refused to go #2 on Tuesday because she was terrified of the cold bath. Then today, around noon I heard her make that sound. The one you all know. And I flipped around and sternly asked, "Do you need to poop?" She gave me this wide-eyed look and ran to the bathroom yelling, "I don't go in the cold bath! I poop on the potty!" And she did. :) Gold star for Abby. I know there will be more cold baths to come, but in the meantime, we're finally making progress!!

#3 This is for Jesse's sake. Jesse is practically NEVER home. Not during Abby hours anyway. He leaves at 6:30 or 8:00 a.m. and doesn't get home until just before Abby's bedtime. Today as I was putting Abby down for her nap, she started crying. Like not stalling crying, like real tear crying. So I asked her what was wrong and she sniffled out, "I love my daddy. I just love my daddy." Which I think means, "I miss daddy." I thought it was tender. :)

There's a double meaning in that.

I find myself sitting my mom's house with absolutely nothing to do. Abby's not even asleep. But she doesn't want to play with me. I asked her if she'd like to play Princess and the Frog toys with me and she turned to me and lamely replied, "No, I play with Uncle Stephen, Ashtie, and Samuel." Stephen laughed and in mock excitement asked, "Abby! Do you want to come play with us downstairs?" "Sure!!! I would love to!" is what she said. Good grief! Moms are boring apparently.

Maryn's teaching piano lessons. My mom's on the phone making a Cafe Rio take-out order for Ashton's birthday. And Jesse and dad are on their way home from work. AND Sarah's in Chicago. What am I to do?

Hmm. Apparently my mom is done. Now she can get me the recipe for the chocolate frosting I need. We made peanut butter bars. Mmmm....

P.S. Jesse was made producer of their senior film. The director is his buddy with whom Jesse co-developed the story. So basically he co-directs. And if they get any awards at the student emmys, he gets to attend the awards show thingy. Cool, yeah?

My subject has nothing to do with this post. It's just from one of my favorite movies Sarah reminded me of this week. :) Sarah, I love you. And Maryn too.

Infinite-Power-of-Hope

Infinite-Power-of-Hope