It happened today; I usually keep a good handle on it, but once in a blue moon it happens. An IMM-Inglorious Motherly Moment.
I learned a new word to help relay how I view my IMM-ignominius. It means "marked with or characterized by disgrace or shame : dishonorable; deserving of shame or infamy ; despicable ;humiliating, degrading...;" you get the picture. Another definition says "making somebody or something appear shamefully weak." That's how I feel about this morning. And here the story goes...
"Kristian! Stop pushing your sister down!"
Every morning it was the same; Mom was fussing at her 2-year-old to stop terrorizing his 11-month-old baby sister. Then came the repeated threats of spankings and removal of privileges. Most of the time the behavior stopped, but this morning it didn't. Almost as if the son was taunting her by saying, " I heard what you said, Mommy, but I don't really think I care to listen. So save your breath." Every day, Mom would play out in her mind the possible outcomes of her responses to her Terrible Two-ster (who in all reality, was not so much terrible as he was "hard of hearing"). She could either continue to feebly request that Kristian stop being mean to his sister and listen to the shrieks of her youngest protest against the bullying of her older brother, or she could be "Mean Mommy"-the distorted green monster who breathed fire and reeked of controlling power. Like her Mom, no-nonsense. A I-better-not-ask-you-more-than-once Mom. A watch-your-back-and-protect-your-head-from-sudden-smacks kind of Mom. And she always tried so hard not to let "Mean Mommy" surface, knowing that she had the capability of letting misdirected rage ravish her children and tear them apart, stopping only once remains of their mutilated spirits lay gasping for air on the ground beneath her feet. And then realizing that she was uncontrollable. That Mommy she hid from constantly.
But today, as she watched her son push her youngest more than once, heard her sternly ask more than once for the behavior to stop, and saw in slow motion the rush as he, once again, flew from around the corner and pushed with all his might into his sister's back while she was struggling to pull to a stand. And Mean Mommy burst forth, jumped to her feet and growled "I TOLD YOU TO STOP PUSHING HER." Nice Mommy, now smothered, still tried to pull Mean Mommy's arm to get her to calm down, but it was too late. Kristian, terrified, turned to run, and Mean Mommy was right behind him. "DON'T RUN AWAY FROM ME!" Mean Mommy screamed, yanking the little boy to the couch and turning him over her lap. By now Mommy was hysterical. "I TOLD YOU TO STOP PUSHING HER!" she shrieked, emitting four forceful and solid strikes onto the youngster's backside. She was angry, and she always tried to never spank out of anger. In fact, she avoided spanking as much as she could because she was always afraid Mean Mommy would fight to intervene and take over. And today, that was sadly just what happened.
Her boy, still terrified, put his hands out as if to shield himself, and at the same time as if to calm her and soothe her fiery rage. And Mean Mommy softened, just a bit. She looked sternly and almost disgustedly at his scrunched face, wet with tears. And she got up and walked away. Still fuming, smoke leaving a trail behind her. Nice Mommy sat nearby, shaking her head and biting her lip to keep tears from falling. Mean Mommy avoided her tearful gaze, and proceeded to butter her morning breakfast bagel. After a few moments of intolerable sad glances from Nice Mommy, Mean Mommy retreated and allowed Nice Mommy to take over. "Kristian," she called, and her son came. He was past the fear, and had already returned to happily playing with his toys. But she couldn't help but notice a tear on his face that hadn't yet dried. "Kristian," she repeated, " Mommy was very angry, and she is sorry for yelling at you. But when you don't listen to Mommy, it makes her upset. Can you please try to listen better, and Mommy will try to control her temper?" Her son, tearing up again, said "But you hurt my feelings!"
"And you hurt mine when you don't listen," Mommy replied. And it was done. Nice Mommy gave a swift elbow to her inner nemesis, who was still fuming, and the heat causing Nice Mommy to sweat. Mommy knew that in another few minutes, she would have to confront her son's behavior once again, but the fight that had already happened within herself had drained her, causing her to retreat inside herself. Trembling, she knew she would have to fight harder, and the thought of working even harder to suppress her inner monster made her swell with tears. How does one keep fighting after such a damaging loss?
I learned a new word to help relay how I view my IMM-ignominius. It means "marked with or characterized by disgrace or shame : dishonorable; deserving of shame or infamy ; despicable ;humiliating, degrading...;" you get the picture. Another definition says "making somebody or something appear shamefully weak." That's how I feel about this morning. And here the story goes...
"Kristian! Stop pushing your sister down!"
Every morning it was the same; Mom was fussing at her 2-year-old to stop terrorizing his 11-month-old baby sister. Then came the repeated threats of spankings and removal of privileges. Most of the time the behavior stopped, but this morning it didn't. Almost as if the son was taunting her by saying, " I heard what you said, Mommy, but I don't really think I care to listen. So save your breath." Every day, Mom would play out in her mind the possible outcomes of her responses to her Terrible Two-ster (who in all reality, was not so much terrible as he was "hard of hearing"). She could either continue to feebly request that Kristian stop being mean to his sister and listen to the shrieks of her youngest protest against the bullying of her older brother, or she could be "Mean Mommy"-the distorted green monster who breathed fire and reeked of controlling power. Like her Mom, no-nonsense. A I-better-not-ask-you-more-than-once Mom. A watch-your-back-and-protect-your-head-from-sudden-smacks kind of Mom. And she always tried so hard not to let "Mean Mommy" surface, knowing that she had the capability of letting misdirected rage ravish her children and tear them apart, stopping only once remains of their mutilated spirits lay gasping for air on the ground beneath her feet. And then realizing that she was uncontrollable. That Mommy she hid from constantly.
But today, as she watched her son push her youngest more than once, heard her sternly ask more than once for the behavior to stop, and saw in slow motion the rush as he, once again, flew from around the corner and pushed with all his might into his sister's back while she was struggling to pull to a stand. And Mean Mommy burst forth, jumped to her feet and growled "I TOLD YOU TO STOP PUSHING HER." Nice Mommy, now smothered, still tried to pull Mean Mommy's arm to get her to calm down, but it was too late. Kristian, terrified, turned to run, and Mean Mommy was right behind him. "DON'T RUN AWAY FROM ME!" Mean Mommy screamed, yanking the little boy to the couch and turning him over her lap. By now Mommy was hysterical. "I TOLD YOU TO STOP PUSHING HER!" she shrieked, emitting four forceful and solid strikes onto the youngster's backside. She was angry, and she always tried to never spank out of anger. In fact, she avoided spanking as much as she could because she was always afraid Mean Mommy would fight to intervene and take over. And today, that was sadly just what happened.
Her boy, still terrified, put his hands out as if to shield himself, and at the same time as if to calm her and soothe her fiery rage. And Mean Mommy softened, just a bit. She looked sternly and almost disgustedly at his scrunched face, wet with tears. And she got up and walked away. Still fuming, smoke leaving a trail behind her. Nice Mommy sat nearby, shaking her head and biting her lip to keep tears from falling. Mean Mommy avoided her tearful gaze, and proceeded to butter her morning breakfast bagel. After a few moments of intolerable sad glances from Nice Mommy, Mean Mommy retreated and allowed Nice Mommy to take over. "Kristian," she called, and her son came. He was past the fear, and had already returned to happily playing with his toys. But she couldn't help but notice a tear on his face that hadn't yet dried. "Kristian," she repeated, " Mommy was very angry, and she is sorry for yelling at you. But when you don't listen to Mommy, it makes her upset. Can you please try to listen better, and Mommy will try to control her temper?" Her son, tearing up again, said "But you hurt my feelings!"
"And you hurt mine when you don't listen," Mommy replied. And it was done. Nice Mommy gave a swift elbow to her inner nemesis, who was still fuming, and the heat causing Nice Mommy to sweat. Mommy knew that in another few minutes, she would have to confront her son's behavior once again, but the fight that had already happened within herself had drained her, causing her to retreat inside herself. Trembling, she knew she would have to fight harder, and the thought of working even harder to suppress her inner monster made her swell with tears. How does one keep fighting after such a damaging loss?
Comments
Post a Comment