wherein i become a caricature of my parents, much to my horror.

today is not a good day to be M_'s mother.

this morning we went to the maryland science center, which has a preschool “storytime” (yes, quote-unquote; it mostly consisted of a pimply teenager who vaguely resembled anne hathaway pre-makeover in the princess diaries dispensing a rather harrowing account of the insidious and pervasive nature of germs and disease while proffering goofy flashcards of cartoon microbes fashioned to resemble a hammer (for the poundy “headache germ”) or an enormous mutant ear (for the “earache germ”)... i can't decide if i was more disturbed by the undercurrent of germ hysteria and its being inflicted on defenseless toddlers or by the horrible charade that this was science). after surviving this we wandered around the exhibits for a good hour -- or rather I wandered; M_ bounced wildly, sprinted, and/or careened through the place like a meth-addled squirrel. yet -- and here's where the badness begins to creep in -- all good thing must end, if only because mommy only had $2 in quarters to put in a meter that doled out a paltry 15 minutes per (and so, if you think about it, the blame for our premature leavetaking really rests with the parking authority. those heartless motherfuckers.). my hand thusly forced, i began the slow process of easing M_ toward the exit, all the while trying to warm her to the idea (at home you can have pizza for lunch! and play with your viewmaster! and snort a few lines of fun dip! (okay so that last bit might be a tad excessive)).... that is until she hurled herself to the floor and began shrieking “I CAN'T GO HOME!” over and over and over again.

at first i tried to talk her down, uttering in my calm, friendly mommy voice reassurances that we'd be coming back next week... that this was a temporary parting with our beloved science center... that the science center would always be with us, in our hearts, forever... but my words only seemed to generate an increase in shriek volume and intensity, as she tried to drown out calm friendly mommy with MEGA-XTREME pissed off M_. people turned from their interactive scientific explorations and silently stared. it was all very distinctly not good.

and this is about when things began to spiral out, and when i started to become The Parent No One Wants To Be. you know what i'm talking about -- the one you see very nearly dragging his or her screaming, flailing child from a public settting, breathlessly muttering cliched threats to the offending child a la “you stop this now, or we're never going anywhere ever again!” -- the one you feel a complex mixture of pity and contempt for, imagining yourself somehow above such public spectacle-making (and i say that to the childless reading this; any of you with kids know the sad truth). yes, that was me today. i was the bad parent. the bad parent with the brat. in fact, i came *this close* to allowing that time-worn old school ultimatum -- “you want something to cry about? i'll give you something to cry about!” -- to pass through my lips. but alas, my heart just wasn't in it.

instead i simply shamed her relentlessly during the whole car ride home: “we do not act this way! that was very bad! if you behave this way we're never going back! you were a very bad girl!” etc., though in my defense i'm 95% positive she heard nary a word, what with her incessant hysterical whining, wailing, groaning and screeching sort of blotting my voice out within the car's echo chamber-like configuration. when we reached home and the tantrum continued unabated, i then pulled out the famous “straight to bed without a meal” maneuver, as seen in the classic film mommy dearest (or was that the “you're never going to bed again until you eat that meal” maneuver? i always get those confused...). dear god, its like i'm standing on the shoulders of giants!

and so in conclusion, to sum up: i feel horrible and exhausted and like an enormous flaming failure. AND i have a headache.

somebody fix me up one of melissa's momtinis, i'm going DOWN.

Comments

[melita]

Delurking to say that this post had me barking like a deranged seal with the bitter, bitter laughter of self recognition. I had the same morning, except mine unraveled at the grocery store and was accompanied by gray drizzle for that extra special sauce, Like M_, my daughter is three. Before her very eyes, I metamorphosed into a hideous threat-hissing viper.

I am discovering that three is the whiniest number. Two months down. Ten to go.

[marie]

Oh man.. I can't wait. T. has the attention span of a gnat, so hysterics are fleeting, thank god (for now..) But really, you did good...at least you got her out of there in one piece! (I guess it would suck if you, for instance, left without her legs or something...) After reading all the pros and cons and hoo-ha in the NYtimes on "bratty children and moms in coffeeshops in Chicago" I don't think I will ever bother to go to anywhere when T. is that age. You are brave for trying, at least...

[lin]

I am in awe of you people parenting in this century. You have to rely on words and time-outs and patience. Not easy, but I'm quite sure every bit as effective (for the kid not the parent)in the long run. Back in the days when I had young children (70s), you could actually act mean, threaten to smack, actually smack, jerk by the arm, hiss at and act as pissed off as you wanted, usually without any stranger giving you any more than a sympathetic look suggesting "So glad my kid is being good right now." I think parenting used to be easier for the parent, perhaps tougher for the kid. Sometimes (when I'm feeling brave) I ask my kids if they remember me smacking, hissing, jerking, yelling or generally being an out-o-control mother...they look at me blankly and generally recount some incident from their teen years when, quite frankly, I could care less if they remember me screaming at them. Maybe I really had some degree of patience...I just can't remember.

[VenturaMom]

I raise my glass in remembrance of what we thought our parenting style should be, and in honor of what it really is - just getting through another day.
As the husband often reminds me, "Hey, she's still alive isn't she?"

[styro]

The only thing that really consoles me about toddler meltdowns is to remind myself that EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US was once a toddler, mid-meltdown. So, you know. Shit happens.

You get bonus points for being strong enough to do the "we're leaving now" thing. I can only imagine how hard it must've been. I've got a giant bottle of vodka with your name on it. I mix a dreadful cocktail, but they sure are strong!

[joy]

this post has me cracked up too, sweetney. "friendly, calm Mommy." Yeah. I feel that schizophrenia on a daily basis. Friendly, calm mommy feels like she lives in a panoptican, looked silently upon by all the other "friendly calm mommies."
when jack pulls the M_-move, he likes to punctuate the yelling-as-being-dragged-from-store/library/friend's house with "NOOOO! Don't HIT me! You're HURTING me!"

nice...

Of course, I then punish him by beating him soundly in the privacy of my own home.

p.s. how do you punish a child by withholding the tv, when mommy needs the tv more than the kid does? (my personal conundrum)

[Imperfect Mommy]

It must be going around... mine is so emotional I can't stand it. I noticed yesterday when I was transitioning from calm mommy to psycho mommy that half of what I say is directed to the people around us, and not to my daughter. I am trying to control their thoughts with my not so genuine words...