I often have two feelings at the same time when I am with my son: GUILT AND ANGER. I feel guilty because my son wants to play and I am busy, and I feel anger because he prevents me from getting things done in a timely manner so that I can do laundry, cooking, cleaning and paperwork.
I feel angry when I need him to go away and he gets in my way like a road block. I feel upset when he stands behind me and I trip over him and I have to take time out to calm him down. I get upset when he whines, “Mommmmmy,” for no reason at all other than possibly wanting to hear how loud he can get, because when I do see what he wants all he says sheeply is “Hi, Mommy,” and then just looks at me.
Yes, I get that he wants attention but I have things that need to be done at home because chores and paperwork don’t get done on their own. Though I must admit, I have tried to see if little elves and fairies would come by to help me out when I am not looking, but to my dismay, the work is never done. I guess there is no Santa Claus either.
I also get angry when I do the laundry and he wants to dance on the pile of clothes. When I try to get him to get off he will stand on the leftover piles of clothes, as if he was jet skiing, and so I have to drag the items out from underneath him one at a time. Sometimes, I think he hates me because I feel like he does things on purpose to prevent me from getting things done.
Then when I try to make a meal, he follows me to the kitchen and rushes to the refrigerator as if it is a game called, “How many items can I grab from the refrigerator before mom looses her cool?”
The game goes like this: when I go to the refrigerator he stands right beside me waiting to get in, too. I will then walk him back to the couch and give him a book or a toy and he will rush back to the refrigerator just as fast as me! It is as if there are two of him; because by the time I get there, he is usually there, too! (I don’t remember having twins but I might have had them, because I was groggy in the hospital after giving birth.)
I will then open the refrigerator, and he will quickly grab the eggs or something else in the refrigerator, and we play a game of tug-of-war as I try to get the item back. Sometimes, I succeed, but usually I am fighting to get back an egg, ketchup, bread or whatever is in his reach which turns into a yelling match–no,I am not proud to say that–and then I end up apologizing and feel guilty for being such an angry, evil mom.
This is what happened to day: I felt guilty and angy when he “won,” and was able to wrestle away an egg and throw it on the ground. He got so excited when he saw the egg ooze all over the kitchen floor–yolk and all–what a pretty mixture of yellow and white! “Damn, it Josh,” I said, “God, now I need to clean it up! Wait, is that dog piss I see in the corner of my eye?”
Ugh….I have a couple of dogs and they used to be potty trained until I got a new dog that wasn’t potty-trained. Now all my dogs are NOT potty-trained–they are all probably thinking “Hey, why should I go outside when Josie never goes outside? Yep, I think I will pee inside, too!” I am not fast enough to see who is peeing on the floor. They all appear to be candidates in the Seven of Wands, which is a card in the Tarot deck that means “STEALTH.” Hmmm….who is doing this?
To make matters worse, after being with my son in the mornings, I then go to work in the late afternoons ( I will be leaving soon to do this) and help everyone else decrease THEIR anger issues. My job consists of helping kids and adults who have behavior problems and severe emotional disabilities and most of them have anger outbursts which is why they are my clients in the first place. By the way, for those of you who are wondering how the hell can I be working with others with their anger issues when I have my own I have one thing for you to ponder: Ever wonder why people get psychology degrees and become counselors? They have their own issues to work out which is why the field interests them in the first place.
I am able to compartmentalize who I am as a mother and who I am as a professional. At work I have more patience with my clients than with my own son because it is my paid job that I have to do correctly and if I do have an outburst I can get fired.
I don’t like being upset and I don’t want to be upset around my son, but I think I just need a break.
I really feel like I would enjoy my life if I had time to have “Lisa-time.” But maybe it doesn’t work that way when you are a single parent. I don’t know. But I do know that a three day stay in the loony bin sounds like a relaxing time to me.
I wonder if they serve popcorn? I really like kettle corn.
I wonder if any of my friends are there? Birds of a feather do flock together.
As I type this to release my stress, my son has hit my computer four times desperately trying to get my attention. Anger and guilt seethe inside of me. Well, time to get a couple of donuts and a coffee in the drive-thru to release more tension before I go to work. I have to have a clear slate in my mind before seeing my clients. I only wish I had alone time so I could de-stress instead of choosing food as a way to let go of my anger. I have tried going to places where I can drop off my son, but he screams/cries to the point in which the staff calls me back to pick him up.
I wonder if I could be a fat model and make millions of dollars and then I could work part time and possibly be able to find “me time.” I am getting pretty large these days. One of Steve Tyler’s daughters is a fat model. Maybe, we could be besties (best friends) and she could introduce me to her agent. I think I will order an extra donut today as I go through the drive-thru. I may have a new career in on the horizon.