I love my mom, and she was great at so many things - always signing up for field trips and throwing extravagant birthday parties. Patience, however, was not her forte. Maybe she owned that virtue once upon a time, but the woman had 3 children in 4 years. She could have been grappling with insanity and none of us would have noticed because she always put us first. I, on the other hand, am ordinarily very patient with Monsoon. It's not easy, but I can almost always keep my cool, or at the very least laugh it off (it helps that I have a better support system than she did, and that I only have one child).
Last fall, my sister and I took Monsoon and Prissy (my niece) to a festival. The husbands were busy cutting down a tree or some such business, and after they nearly dropped a limb on our neighbor's classic corvette, my nerves were burning on end. We finally scurried out of the house, kids in tow, and headed for the big ta-do a half hour away.
Twenty minutes into the drive, Monsoon has to pee. Did I mention this festival was in the middle of nowhere? I might also tell you that Monsoon has an irritating habit of waiting until the very last minute to tell me he has to go. There are no stores, no restaurants, not even a freaking McDonalds on the way to this place, and the road was too busy to pull over.
I told him he'd have to wait, and I wasn't nice about it. We made it to the line of cars outside the gate. We could smell the funnel cakes, we were so close. That's when I heard, "oops," and I should have just smothered myself in a plastic bag right then and there.
Instead, I screeched into the parking lot, growling and yelling and looking back every few words to give him the stink eye. He told me, "It's okay, Mommy." No! No it is most definitely NOT okay! "Take your deep breafs, Mommy," he sniffled. I was heartless. I threatened to go straight home and he could just keep sitting in his pee all the way back and if he had to pee again, he could just pee right there and warm himself back up again! I got out of the car and stomped around until my feet were numb, yelling and berating him some more. He cried, he was ashamed, he didn't know how to handle this mommy with no patience. I completely lost it. It. Was. Bad.
When I got back into the car, the look on my sister's face was indescribable. All she said was, "Whoooaaaa....." and I knew what she was thinking. Mom.
We ended up driving another ten minutes down the road to K-mart and picking up something for him to wear to the festival. He apologized all day, and so did I. The last time I peed my pants was in my mom's van. I was 14 years old. She was right to be pissed. I was out of line with Monsoon. Bad, bad mommy.
What's your bad mommy story? If it's a real doozy, write a post and leave your link in the comment section.