Throwing a Mommy Tantrum!

It's a postcard perfect afternoon, walking the 2km to the nearest supermarket with my boy in the stroller to get a few things for dinner. I've set out with a smile, thinking how wonderful it will be to enjoy this sublime beach scenery and get some exercise at the same time. About half a kilometer in, the boy starts to holler in frustration that his sunglasses are falling off his face. I warn him that if he continues to holler, I will take them away, which I do, the hollering turning into high pitch hysterics, his body twisting and kicking himself out of the stroller. Fine! Here are your sunglasses, I muttered with defeat, thinking that once at the market, he would be distracted and forget the damn sunglasses.

Wrong. The moment we grabbed a basket, the kid proceeds to repeat over and over again, Mommy! Apple pie! Mommy! Apple Pie. (A "treat" that obviously has now become a habit.) There's nothing more relaxing than trying to find ingredients for dinner when everything is labeled in another language and your kid's brain in stuck like a broken record player. Apple pie, Mommy, apple pie! FINE! Here's your apple pie and I guess we're having grilled cheese sandwiches and bananas for dinner!

Groceries in the stroller, we return home, walking along the beach trying to enjoy the huge waves and crashing surf, but no. The freakin' sunglasses! Why hadn't I hid them? Because I was being serenaded with the apple pie song and went into a deep trance? By the time, we reached the last kilometer home, the hollering turned into a whinny repetitive, "I wanna go home!" Secretly, behind my sunglasses huge tears of frustration were welling up in my eyes. I cried, I wanna go home too! I want my mommy! Once home, I threw a major tantrum, which I drowned out in a hot shower while the kid stood in the doorway wondering why his mother was moaning like a pregnant seal delivering her cub.

Every mom in their least glorious moments, has had secret tantrums. And they ain't pretty. We don't easily admit to them, who would? "Oh, yes, I'm a grown woman and nothing turns me into a raging, snot gushing teary mass of a human being, curled up in a fetal position on the kitchen floor, but a three year old boy who has suddenly decided that his toothpaste is too spicy." The spicy toothpaste being the straw that broke the camel's back, obviously. Not our finest hour, but then maybe it is. Maybe toddlers are onto something we haven't completely understood. What's wrong with a little release of frustration, tuning out the world by positioning ourselves in such a way that anyone walking in on you would surely turn around in a flash and leave you alone? I think that in the heat of the moment, a quick ugly tantrum is way more effective than a 20 minute bath or quiet meditation in a zen garden. What mom has the time for that?

So I dedicate this post to my mommy friends mostly, but also to anyone who hasn't let all the "uglies" out in a while. Let it all out, the snot and the tears, pound the floor, and beat your fists in the air just like a three year old, it works.

or a cocktail.