Tuesday, September 22, 2009

psst- your neuroses are showing

Last night, after I got in bed and flopped about trying to get comfortable for about 20 minutes in which I moved Phil (my body pillow) about 60 times or so, I had an ugly moment of neurotic mommyhood.  It was bad, so you may want to brace yourself.  If I'd ever guessed how crazy I was becoming, I might have medicated myself a little before bed last night, or at least taken a run at some point to burn off some of this "crazy", but alas - I didn't.

As I lay in bed thinking about the day, replaying events over and over, I actually had to bite the inside of my mouth to stop myself from screaming.  I could taste the iron between my teeth, and felt a sneeze reflex bubbling up as the pain traveled through my nose, and yet, I couldn't stop or I was going to scream.  No, I don't have Tourette's and I've never had this happen before, but I really did have a moment where I prayed that I would be able to sleep without shouting.

You see I realized as I lay there in bed, that B, my youngest child, has a fascination with "sharp".  This is the child who just sliced her thumb on a shaving razor.  I don't even want to tell you what she did yesterday, because I'm afraid H will find out, and the longer he goes without finding out, the more likely he will never find out, and the better off I will be.  I am hiding my sins as a mother from my husband, which probably goes into deeper stuff than is blog worthy.

Yesterday while we were all sitting around playing Scrabble (H was at the store), the adult to child ratio was 1:1.  My mother is visiting with her husband.  We were at the kitchen table, and B was in her booster seat.  

(before, while I was helping C with her homework, Pappa had just finished helping G open all the gift packaging.  All the toys were boxed in that clear plastic kevlar material that they make bullet proof vests out of for the police force.  You know the stuff right?W here they sell kids toys packaged up in a way that it takes a pair of scissors, 3 knives and a screwdriver just to get into the box?   I didn't realize that all the implements hadn't been properly put away.)  

So we're all playing scrabble, and B reached up onto the counter, moved an empty box, picked up the kids scissors, and cut off a huge shank of hair.  It took exactly that long.  Seriously, set a timer and then read this...  Reach onto the counter where G left the Fiskars, pick them up, put fingers in and cut the hair.  It took all of 2 seconds, tops.  

All I could think about last night in bed was, "am I really this stupid?  Will I never learn?  What if something bad happens to B because I'm not catching on fast enough to keep her safe?  What kind of bad mother am I?"  It sounds like a joke I make, "just got to keep them alive until 18, after that they're on their own".  But, it's sounding less and less like a joke and more and more like a terrifying reality.

1 comment:

Chele said...

If my brother had been born in this day & age my mother would have been arrested for abuse. He managed in the course of a few short years to burn or break pretty much every bone or body part. And remember the fun toys we had as kids like jacks w/ pointy ends, those heavy balls on a string you hit together (the name lost me), snoopy snow cone had an actual blade in it. I swallowed more than a few light bright pegs. I also ate the stuff in stretch armstorng, a large amount of dog food as well as dirt. Also remember our records played backwards made the devil talk, we are lucky to be alive.