When Mom Goes Beserk

The words "women" and "hysterics" just seem to be drawn together kinda like men and baseball. Whether a man ever watches or plays the game, certain gender words seem to magically connect.

Now, you read about women and their hysterics but when I hear those words, I used to mentally picture ladies in Victorian dress doubling over in impolite laughter, heads tilted together with gloved hands covering their giggles, until the other night. . . when I experienced the UGLIES of true hysteria.

I truly went into hysterics at my children. MOMFAIL but I did it. I began screaming until my husband started yelling at me to stop. I really don't know what came over me . . .

EXCEPT. . . a three hour car ride late into the evening after which we pull up in front of our house – after the last half hour of anxiety slowing rising over everything I needed to do at home after three long days away – AND then, as I am standing with my arms full in the freezing snow at the front door, my dear adorable pre-teen (as in not so small anymore) daughters plop themselves in the middle of the open front door squealing and screaming their own loving hugs around our house sitting beagle who was quite happy at all the attention – all of whom were oblivious to my horrific plight.

WHY? Because, who notices the packhorse at the back?!  Me, yes, that would be me.

"MOVE!" {decibles increasing . . } "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE" {Going scratchy soprano here} "MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!"

I started and almost couldn't stop myself. Well, technically, my dear innocent husband already in the warmth of the house also staring out at me – also oblivious – told me I was being rude. "yeah, um, well, um. . . {insert lame excuse here} . .  . they were in my way."

I tried every excuse in the book to justify my reaction (to myself silently – mind you – since I wasn't about to admit defeat just yet). But, I realized that however right I tried to sound in my own ears, I still owed them an apology BECAUSE IF ANY OF THEM EVER TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, more hysterics are coming. So, I did apologize to my girls and gave them big hugs. Not so surprisingly, they weren't that shocked at seeing me get upset and then getting over it and loving up on them. It happens, ya know. They push me to the edge.

I think it took my husband more by surprise because we really don't yell and scream around the house. We AVOID conflict at all costs and get along pretty well. And we like it like that even if some things that should be said aren't. I told him later that I apologized to the girls. He appreciated that.

The EPIC mom fail moment was over but I won't forget it for awhile but I am hoping my daughters do. They are getting older and REMEMBER things now. It's kinda scary. They learning to cope with the world. I don't want them yelling and screaming either . . . but unfortunately, it does seem effective at times, doesn't it? BUT does it truly get the desired effects in the end or do those who hear you screaming get so tuned out that they stop listening – WHICH may be a good lead-in to a post on the political conference we were just coming back from when all this happened! We'll see.