Save the Drama for Your Mama

This headline makes me laugh, because I remember somebody saying once, “Whoever coined that phrase must not have been a mama.” ‘Cause we don’t need more drama, that’s for sure! I also laugh when I think back to those times I thought my life was boring -– dull, monotonous, no excitement. Boy, have things changed.

Now, my days are a rollercoaster of emotions. Sometimes I experience extreme highs, devastating lows, laughter, tears, and more all in a single morning! As my aunt once put it, “Kids are a lot of things, but they’re never boring.” You got that right, sister.

Take the other day, for instance. My 3 y.o. son was in his usual good mood for most of the day, and even behaved himself during a doctor’s visit. So I decided to reward him with a snowball. (For you non-Baltimore natives like me, that’s something like a snow cone.) Of course he chose the bluest, gooiest flavor, which totally could have been sweetened Windex for all I know. Anyway, he loved it. And then we went home and all hell broke loose.

Miles wanted to play outside, but it was past the baby’s dinnertime and plus, I had to go to the bathroom really, really bad. (I have considered wearing Depends so many times it’s not even funny. If you’ve ever tried to use a public restroom with 2 handsy kids in tow, you might too.)

So Miles throws a tantrum. Crying, kicking, stomping, the whole bit. I had to forcibly drag him into his room for a time-out. Meanwhile, Riley realized it had been 20 whole minutes since his last snack and his blood-sugar was plummeting. “FEED ME!!!” his screams insisted.

Sometimes I’m sympathetic to my kids -- it had been a long day, everyone was tired, Miles had been a trooper at the doctor’s -- but at that moment, I was pissed. “I take you for a special treat and THIS is how you act?” I may have yelled. “And your room’s still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it up for 3 days in a row?! Clean it up NOW or you’re going straight to bed!”

More sobbing, thumping, and hysterics ensued as I got Riley’s dinner ready. BTW, feeding that child is like throwing food to the lions. I literally chuck pieces of chicken, pasta, peas, etc. onto his highchair tray as fast as I can, while he shovels them into his mouth as fast as he can. And if I dare dawdle for a SECOND to, say, blow on a scalding-hot piece of food, he screams as if he was the one being scalded. I tell you, whoever says family dinners are a great way to bond and relax at the end of the day is ON CRACK.

At this point, all is silent upstairs in the land of the angry, sticky-faced dwarves. I tiptoe up to take a peek, expecting God knows what. Splintered furniture? Spray-painted walls? Instead, Miles comes skipping out into the hall with a smile on his blue-stained face. “Mom! Come take a look at my room. Ta-da!” he says, sweeping his arm grandly across the now-immaculate room.

“Wow, Miles, you did a great job cleaning up your room!” I enthuse. “I’m so proud of you!” Mwaahhh! I give him a big smooch. And you know what he says?

“You’re the best mom in the whole world.” And he takes his little bipolar self down the stairs to dinner. Is that enough drama for one afternoon or what??

RECIPE O’ THE WEEK: For a more nutritious frozen treat, you can’t beat a smoothie. We make them with anything we have on hand, but here’s a yummy-sounding recipe with blueberries, mango, yogurt, and almonds.


Margaret said...

Having my own miserable afternoon for a host of other reasons (the youngest of my three kids is now 21...) I NEEDED this right now - you had me laughing and wandering down memory lane... thanks!!!

Crysi said...

Oh how your life sounds like mine, but instead of 1 hungry lion, I have 2. And when it's time to be fed, it's time to be fed. And bipolar preschoolers are driving me bonkers.

Plaidy said...

LOLOL I swear sometimes I refer to my 2 year old as bipolar too! HA!

Jennifer Mendelsohn said...

I once said that whoever coined that "save the drama" phrase must have been speaking directly to my two year old. Because he got the message.

My husband recently asked me if I thought there was anything "wrong" with him. I was like, "Wrong? Wrong how?"

He said, "I don't know? Could he have schizophrenia?"

I said. "Um, no. He's two."

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