Dizzylille

Warm play-doh on the stove smells like, well, warm play-doh on the stove. Flour, salt and oil combine over low heat when you stir and stir and stir. Add some blue food coloring and or glitter and there you go. THOSE are the times I feel like a good mama. Letting a four-year-old add drops of food coloring to anything allows you the title of greatest mom on the planet, at least for 45 minutes. Most of the time though, it's a bit tougher to find those moments of maternal bliss. 3:45 on a Tuesday afternoon is tough. My little guy is tired, his mom is tired, he wants a third packet of fruit snacks. I have said, "NO" definitively, he has asked again...sigh.

Losing it "mom-style" has many layers. The 1st of these is usually done while stirring something on the stove. It's light-hearted and funny, "Well I guess those Trashies (small, plastic trash monsters of questionable origin) are gonna have to stay lost until I finish making dinner, babe...."

Stage 2 is similar to stage one, except mom is very aware that her heart is starting to pound a bit and her breaths are a little shallower (perhaps she's had a rough day at work and on top of that her jeans are feeling tight), "I can't help you find a shovel right now. For one thing, we are not outside and do not need a shovel...."

Stage 3 usually occurs outside the home--probably the check-out line after shopping: "Nope, we're not buying "Madagascar 2" at the grocery store, babe. That movie is on Netflix anyway. Sheesh. What? No, mommy doesn't care that you are "frustrated. I can show you frustrated. " Sympathetic cashier's glance.

Stage 4 involves alot of tears from both sides. My stage 4 freak outs involve immediate danger and out-right kid defiance: running in a parking lot, opening the door to a stranger, eating the damn Doritos secretly in his bed after I've told him not to touch any kind of food before dinner. Those orange fingers tell all. After a stage 4 freak out and cool down, I usually find myself hovering over his bed after he goes to sleep. Those sweet, small breaths--mouth open, tummy up, take my breath away and make me feel like a monster. Even when you know you are right, there is no redemption after, " I am about to bring a world of pain, mister!"
Happy Mother's day to me.