or The Mother Who Should Be Ashamed
It's been 15 days since the surgery. Guess who's doing great? M. Guess who is at the end of her rope? The mother.
Since she can't use all her energy moving around, she uses it all talking. NON-STOP. And I can't take it anymore. I want to hide in the bathroom, soaking in the tub and drinking an entire bottle of wine.
"I want donuts.
Did you hear me?
I want donuts
Mommy, are you going to buy me donuts?
Mommy, the donuts are NOT this way. They are DAT way.
Dat way OVER DERE. NOT THIS WAY.
YOU FORGOT MY DONUTS.
YOU SAID YOU WERE BUYING DONUTS."
Well, actually. I might have said that, but kiddo, you sure didn't hear me BECAUSE YOU NEVER TOOK A BREATH.
My response was this:
"If you say the word donut ONE MORE TIME, YOU WILL NEVER EAT A DONUT AGAIN IN YOUR LIFE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, YOUNG LADY?????"
Does anyone see a pattern here?
Let me give you another example.
M: "Mommy, what are you looking for now?"
Me: "Chocolate syrup" (Oh, we're on the pancake syrup aisle)
M: "Mommy, there is syrup. There it is RIGHT there. Do you see it? Mommy, you are walking past the syrup. The syrup was back dere. It is not this way. You are going the wrong way.
Mommy, you are still going the wrong way. Mommy, do you know where the syrup is? It was WAY back dere. You need turn around. Turn around RIGHT NOW."
Me: "M, if you tell Mommy what to do again, YOU WILL NOT HAVE CHOCOLATE MILK FOR ONE WEEK. DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME????"
M: *when we finally find the chocolate milk* "Mommy, you tricked me. You DID know where the chocolate syrup is! OH!"
On our way out of the grocery store into drizzly rain.
"Mommy, I not allowed to get my cast wet. Do you know where our car is? I don't see our car. Do you remember where you put it? Mommy, are you listening to me? Do you hear me? Don't let that rainy sky get on me. You need cover me up. Put those foods on my leg so the water doesn't get near it. Find our car NOW. I NEED GET IN MY CAR. DO YOU KNOW WHERE OUR CAR IS? Put me in my car before you put the foods in the car. I wait QUIETLY. GET OUR CAR. YOU LOST OUR CAR. I TELL DADDY YOU LOST OUR CAR. DADDY GET MAD AT YOU. PUT ME IN OUR CAR NOW!!!!"
My aggravated response:
"Daddy will NOT be mad at me. He is going to be upset with YOU for being so unkind to Mommy. You need to use KIND WORDS TO MOMMY. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?????? Mommy doesn't want your cast to get wet either. I'm hurrying AS FAST AS I CAN (to get us home, I think to myself). You need to be PATIENT."
As I shove humble pie in my own mouth. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Perhaps I should be patient. Oh, and maybe talk a little more to her. The conversation might not escalate if I responded to her a little earlier.
I'm going to pour myself a hefty glass of wine to have with my humble pie. And I might decorate the Christmas tree when I'm a little calmer.
Only 19 more days. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS.