The Mommy Time Bomb: Four frustrating events, each annoying on their own, are packed into two hours. I go from happy mommy to almost homicidal and have to call in reinforcements.
How it all unfolded last Wednesday afternoon…
2:15 PM – Lil Diva balks at nap time routine. Again. Squirms. I lay her down anyway.
2:25 PM – After continued complaints and screaming, I deduce she needs to run and fill her diaper. She is released.
Oh frak #1
2:33 PM – Diaper is changed, and nap time routine part two takes place. I leave her alone in the bedroom for thirty seconds to grab her pacifier. I come back and find her chewing on something.
2:34 PM –I pull a small white circle from her mouth, then find the source.
My two year old daughter tried to EAT my iPod headset.
Who the frak chews on a headset? Seriously?
2:36 PM – She’s in her bed again protesting her nap.
2:40 PM – She’s finally quiet.
Oh frak #2
3:04 PM – I instant message Bobbi: “Just shoot me.”
Lil Diva is awake and pissed off after napping less than thirty minutes.
3:10 PM – I spend the next forty-five minutes trying to calm her down and get her back to sleep as we watched Castle.
4:01 PM – She discovers her brother, cheers up, and I let them play upstairs. I listen carefully for tears but all I hear are squeals of laughter and joy.
I start to think the day will turn out okay.
Oh frak #3
4:40 PM – I am on the phone with my friend Mia when The Tackler walks down the stairs.
“Mommy, we emptied all the drawers.”
“What?!” I look at his grin, part mischief, part pride and a sinking feeling hits me. “Mia, I’m pretty sure my children just emptied their entire dresser. I’m going to grab my camera before I go upstairs so I don’t strangle my children.”
4:41 PM – I walk up the stairs, taking deep breaths, knowing the urge to strangle both children is certain to arise. I peer into the room and see this:
A slight stench wafts to my nose as I took in the destruction.
“Mia I’m going to have to call you back later.”
I go downstairs and grab a diaper and wipes.
Oh frak #4
4:42 PM – “Mommy, I can’t get in my room.” The Tackler says as I reach the top of the stairs. On the other side of the door I hear Lil Diva crying. I twist the knob.
Are you frakking kidding me?!
“HOW DID THE DOOR GET LOCKED?”
My son gives me a look, knowing he’s in trouble. “I locked it and I shut the door.”
“YOU CANNOT LOCK THE DOOR LIKE THAT. NOW I CANNOT GET INTO YOUR BEDROOM BECAUSE YOUR SISTER DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO UNLOCK IT AND SHE’S IN A POOPY DIAPER.”
The Tackler is sent to time-out as I rush back down the steps again, this time in search of the one screwdriver tiny enough to fit into the hole for the locking mechanism.
4:43 PM – Thankfully it is in its place, because at this point I am a fraction from losing it.
Ok, that’s a lie. I have lost it, but keep moving on mommy auto-pilot.
I unlock the door.
I change Lil Diva.
I inform my son, “You will pick up all of those clothes and put them into a neat pile.”
He goes into his room.
4:45 PM – I hear a battle breaking out as I wash my hands.
“Mommy she’s messing my pile all up!” They are in a full blown sibling push fest.
4:46 PM – I take Lil Diva downstairs so The Tackler can pick up the clothes.
She whines. She cries.
“Why didn’t you NAP LONGER?!
I am on edge. My patience obliterated. Each whine hits my sinuses as a headache materializes.
I recognize my responses are over-the-top and irrational. Too many events, too close, are mixed with sleep deprivation, an exploded house, and constant whining into a combustible concoction more potent than napalm.
4:50 PM – My nerves continue to fray with every cry of Lil Diva’s. I want to run screaming from the house. I instant message Bobbi.
Me: FRAK FRAK FRAK!
It takes her a few minutes to respond as my daughter begs to be picked up so she can scream closer to my now exploding sinuses.
I want to cry.
bobbi (10/12/2011 4:52:08 PM): What? me (4:52:15 PM): can you take my kids? bobbi (4:52:17 PM): I need more than expletives here me (4:52:19 PM): before I kill them bobbi (10/12/2011 4:52:28 PM): What's going on? me (10/12/2011 4:52:32 PM): can you take them? me (10/12/2011 4:52:35 PM): it is yes or no bobbi (10/12/2011 4:52:45 PM): Yes, how long? me (10/12/2011 4:53:01 PM): until CG gets home
5 PM – Lil Diva senses something is different and miraculously goes into the play room.
I sneak upstairs where my son gets his first lesson in clothes folding.
He isn’t half bad. As long as wrinkles don’t count.
Bobbi shows up and saves my children from me until CG gets home. Then I dump the kids on him and leave to eat dinner with Bobbi.
Have I had worse days before? Yes.
For whatever reason on Wednesday, my patience was thin. My fuse was lit.
I was a mommy time bomb.
Thank goodness Bobbi arrived to defuse me….
Have you ever experienced the mommy/daddy time bomb mode?