Do you ever feel the need to just scream?

Do you ever feel the need to scream at the top of your lungs...maybe at your children or maybe at your dog...and you do everything you can to hold it in through the craziness (whether that be your kids screaming at each other - or at you if you happen to have a two year old - or your precious kids have just done something so bad and humiliating that you want to crawl in a hole - again usually this would involve a two year old - or maybe it is just because your dog chewed up your favorite shoes (or in our house maybe that would be the two year old)...you get where I'm going here)?

So...where was I? Yes, you are holding the scream in or the wailing or the fist hitting or the feet stomping - whatever it is you are holding it in until you can't take it and then it comes out.

And you feel stupid. I hardly ever feel better. Actually I gave myself a headache tonight I screamed so loud and deep (I have a tendency to pull out this deep James Earl Jones (Darth Vader) voice from within). And then all chaos is supposed to stop right? But for me it never does again because I'm dealing with a two year old.

I thought at least she would be shocked and maybe cry a little or be kind of scared that her mom just turned into a Sith Lord in the driver seat and would probably pull out a light saber next and whip it back onto her seat, trying to gain control again from the little people in tow. But no...none of the above. She actually just screams back louder (thinking it is a game I suppose) and then proceeds to get onto me yelling, "Noooooooo!" As if she is the evil emperor himself!

Where is this story coming from (or going for that matter)? I had the perfect day honestly. I went and exercised. Elizabeth did great in the nursery at the sports center. We had a nice lunch together at home. We read books. She laid down for a nap like a perfect angel. I even took a bath (please don't roll your eyes at me) and read some of a book. Then I managed to fold clothes while finishing a movie all while cooking supper for tonight. She woke up...then my busy life began.

But even then it was all okay. I'm trying to figure out where the sane mom stopped and was replaced by the crazy mom.

Did piano lessons. Did boys' hair cuts. Again, everyone was great! Had 30 mts. to rush home and eat the supper I had prepared while doing homework with my first grader (that was a little insane but we managed). I was calm while sister girl threw a bowl of pasta that she didn't happen to have a taste for tonight across the floor. I disciplined her like a champ and we started over with a new bowl. I did this all by myself by the way. I got the extra food I had prepared for a college group we were helping to cook supper for and loaded everyone in the van again, only 5 mts. later then planned.

I met Nate in the parking lot and again traded out kids and food and sent him to one location while I took sister girl into the boys' school for a PTC meeting. (only a few minutes late but everything is going great).

I guess I should back up at this point and think about what I was doing. Yes, I admit that taking a two year old into a PTC meeting at school was pretty stupid. But don't forget I had taken a nice hot bath this afternoon and finished a movie by myself - all things that I NEVER do in the day - SO I think I was delusional at that point. This is sister girl we are talking about.

I'll just draw you a quick picture of what happened next...
spilled cheese nips on gym floor, fold up chairs with a two year old balancing on them then pushing one across said gym floor, two year old realizing her mother gets a very nervous face when she talks loud or decides to sing very loud while adults in room are voting on bylaws, then this two year old decides if she justs gets far enough away from her crazy faced mother she will be out of reach to finally...run around gym fast enough to make her now crazy looking to everyone mother run after her (again while said adults are doing adult things - the opposite of things I'm doing at the moment). I could go on...but I'll stop with this. I realize I made a mistake bringing her and I swallow my pride, collect the baby doll, the book, the cheese nips, the coats, the diaper bag, my purse, all while squeezing her tight against my side and all while she was yelling "good bye" to everyone in the gym.

I know you can't help but love the little thing!

But at that moment I wasn't feeling the love...and so I managed to get in the van all while speaking like "Satan" in a low, hissing voice out through the parking lot and then we pick back up with my story at the beginning of this post. You remember the screaming?

Now let me conclude. After I lost it fist in the van on the ride home and then again at home...still holding a grudge from missing my meeting and now cleaning up yogurt that somehow found its way into a video that was too close to her bowl I suppose...I decided it was bed time. And I told her so. And she agreed after seeing my face.

After something else crazy happened in her bedroom (had to do with wrestling a two year old who was laughing the whole time and me, well not laughing, and then my contact popping out and me, well crying at this point)I finally get the lights turned off and sister girl wrapped in her blanket on my lap in the rocking chair. And do you know what she said?

"You be okay mommy." Elizabeth
"What did you say?" me - stunned
Patting my cheek..."Daddy be home soon. You okay." Kissing my face at this point.
"I"m sorry for yelling at you Elizabeth...but you were a bad girl." me...talking to her like she is my therapist at this point.
She smiles up at me again.

And after all that, really, how can a crazy mother stay crazy?

She is actually a very, very sweet child. I write about her for my sanity and I joke about her often but I know and I must say (for my conscience is getting to me) that she is really a kind hearted child. She is just full of spunk and strong will and life and love for anything that makes her smile (except pasta and mayonnaise for supper) AND SHE IS TWO FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. So, I take a deep breath. I write out my woes to bring you some laughter (and make you thankful you aren't in my shoes right now) and I move on. She'll wake up tomorrow and we'll have another fun day together. And I won't take her to an adult meeting...maybe I'll just never go back to an adult meeting. I mean who wants to go to a meeting where you can't run around a gym and sing at the top of your lungs anyway? =)