Mama Hyde
A mad-mom entry from two summers ago.
So the sane me is sitting at my kitchen table, keeping an eye on the kids in the backyard while I work at the laptop. I am making over an adoption profile for a couple who has been passed over by expectant parents several times over the last 7 months. I’ve just figured out the key to making their profile work, and I’m eager to write up some suggestions.
Tessa asks if she can turn on the hose. I say yes and watch her do so, telling her to turn down the pressure a bit.
Tessa and Reed squirt each other an squeal with delight for several minutes. I step away for a moment to put laundry into the dryer.
When I get back, Holy Crapoly! Water is showering in through the kitchen window — all over the laptop and my clients’ photos.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” I yell loud enough to startle the neighbors. I can see that Tessa has attached a fan-type sprinkler to the end of the previously naked hose, and she’s ordered Reed to turn on the water full blast, which he does in his usual dutiful manner. “TURN OFF THE WATER YOU (grrrrrrrr)! IF YOU DON’T TURN THAT OFF RIGHT NOW I’M GONNA (grrrrrrrrrr)” The thoughts are finished in my head, but luckily the words don’t come out of my mouth.
In an instant I decide to head for the water source, though in hindsight it would have been better to get to the window and close it. Bygones.
I’m blocked at the door by the spray of water, but I forge through and take the patio steps down two at a time to the faucet and turn it off.
“Get inside the house. NOW!” I yell at the kids. Reed begins to cry. I laser my anger at Tessa.
I seethe at her: “You. Are. SIX!“
This fact needs to be pointed out to her frequently, since Tessa believes she’s actually 19 and can thus remove splinters from her brother’s thumb with a needle, watch Sex and the City DVDs with me, answer my business telephone, and boil water for french-pressed coffee — which resulted yesterday in a burned potholder.
“You do NOT get to attach sprinklers! YOU’RE FREAKING SIX!!”
By now I am totally out of control, shaking my head like a crazy woman and waving my arms madly.
“Look at this table! My computer is ruined — and the pictures, too!” The children scamper inside. “Get in your rooms, both of you!” I say this even though *I* am the one who needs a time out.
To unleash some of my anger I stomp my feet on the kitchen floor. This scares Reed, who is terrified in his room, crying that he didn’t do anything (which is mostly true). I feel bad for him.
Tessa is at first defiant as she heads up the stairs. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” she matches my anger. “Reed turned on the water; IT’S REED’S FAULT!”
This re-enrages me. “You’re SIX and he’s FOUR! You TOLD him to turn it on! Whatever happens to the computer is YOUR. FAULT! YOU. ARE. SIX!” My teeth are gritted as I struggle to avoid saying any more words I’d regret.
I see myself out of control, ugly, mean. But I can’t stop. I know I’m going to wish I’d handled this better, more calmly. I’m sure the neighbors are hearing my rant, because all the windows are open . I wonder if anyone is calling social services or the state mental hospital.
I grab a towel and wipe off the laptop. Luckily, its positioning has protected the keyboard and screen, and I’m able to wipe off the non-vital parts. No harm. The photos belonging to my client are also salvageable. My pulse rate begins to lower, and I consciously breathe. I remember that Reed is scared.
I go to his room and tell him it’s OK. That it was an accident and he couldn’t have known what would happen. He asks me, several times, to make sure I tell Daddy (when he gets home) that we’ve already talked about this and he’s done his time. I promise to.
By now, Tessa has also come around. I can hear her in her room sobbing, “It’s all my fault. I ruined Mom’s computer. It was me. All me.”
I go in and embrace her. I tell her we were lucky — the computer isn’t ruined. I tell her, “Tessa, you’re six. You could not have known what would happen when you attached that sprinkler, but I could. That’s why you need to ask anytime you do something new.” I also acknowledge the fact that she has taken responsibility.
She nods. She cries and apologizes. She helps me clean up the table. She suggests I tell the clients that the small water droplets were all her fault. I apologize to both children for losing my temper.
What would a saintly mother have done? Don’t ask me. I was more Joan Crawford than Mother Theresa.
That day, anyway.
Have you ever lost it with your children — has your Mama Hyde emerged unexpectedly?
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Oh no! I can see why you’d be upset!
Claire is only 3, so we’ve had our fair share of tussles, but nothing this extreme. (Yet. There’s still plenty of time.) I’ve been pretty good at placating my Momma Hyde with counting to ten, in more than one language (as many as six!), if necessary. And, I have been known to put her in timeout, lock myself in our Master Bathroom and scream really loud. Does that count?
And, as for Tessa and Reed, I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t use the wire hangers! ;) Just kidding.
I find myself wishing I spent less time angry. I try to say it’s okay and laugh about the non-essential stuff of life and to define what is essential more accurately. It doesn’t always work.
Usually when I’m saying “She’s 3!” under my breath, it’s to remind myself that despite how mature my three yr old sounds, she’s three, with all the problem solving skills that involves. Or lack thereof.
Potty training. That brought out the Mama Hyde in me. I was supportive and loving for 1.5 years as we did it. When she turned 3 and a half and STILL refused to train? Mama Hyde.
I’ll have to learn a few more languages, but counting to 10 in 6 of them sounds like a good idea!
Thanks, ladies, for making me feel less like a monster. Or, at least less like the ONLY monster.
Oh, come now. Is that the last time your Momma-Hyde Momster came out? If so, you, my dear, are a true Madonna.
Me and my Mama Hyde commune much more often then that.
I can see how, when removed from the situation, you can think of how you would have preferred to react to that disaster. But in the moment… I would have been furious as well! Obviously you did a wonderful job of talking to them about what happened when you’d calmed down. That’s the mark of a great mother. :)
My son is only 16 months old, so I don’t have any good Mama Hyde stories. But between sleep deprivation and some uncooperative toddler moments, I’ve definitely been less-than-patient with my munchkin at times.
Unfortunately I’ve had more than a few lately. My 6 1/2 year old daughter has always been headstrong and obstinate, but with the addition of a baby brother 12 weeks ago, things have gotten out of hand. I know that in addition to adjusting to having some competition for mom and dad’s attention, we are both adjusting to being together all day long while I’m on maternity leave. In fact, we had a bit of a yell-fest about 2 hours ago. In the end she was in her room and I was pacing the living room crying. We haven’t actually resolved it yet. Shortly after our dust up I went into her room to talk but she was so engaged in a book that we agreed I’d come back later. When I looked in 20 minutes later she was sound asleep and still is.
Anyway, I’m so glad I saw your post just now. I was feeling like a horrible parent and it helps to know that other parents sometimes react poorly too. But I do think it’s time to pull out the ole behavior chart again!
It’s humbling to forget who is the grown up. A loss of control is scary and to forgive is also a lesson in love and caring.
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I alternate between the Mama and the Jekyll that I am sure my children think I have multiple personalities.
It’s brutal… however…. talking to them afterward seems to help!
Don’t beat yourself up, look at the examples of human nature we have out there? We are saintly mothers, we raise our voices, even curse sometimes, slam doors and cry. But we could be much worse, Much, much worse.
Amber mine is 4 and just got to meet the Potty Training Hyde. FOUR!
My family has had some challenging times n the last few years, which has made me pretty good at “rolling with it.” But last week I had just had enough!
I’m whipping off his fourth pair of underpants for the day (one pair for every year) and he’s looking at me with tears streaming down his face, like “What did you do with my mom?!”
And we haven’t had an accident since.
So maybe a little Hyde isn’t so bad. As my dad often says, all things in moderation.
Dad, is there moderation in losing your sanity?
I’d SOOOO have done that, and probably worse…
I am usually calm, cool and collected, but I’ve been “Mama Hyde” several times in my mothering career…some I’m not proud of and some that make me laugh (now)!
What I find amazing is that I can’t imagine letting anyone or anything get to me that much at work, and yet a 6 year old can bring me to my knees.
I’ve learned some of the most humbling lessons in my parenting career…and both me and the kids have survived and are possibly better for it (I hope). At least they know Mommy has a limit and she is human!
I’d likely have done the same. We haven’t had any major incidents -yet. But my son is only 14 months old.
Oh Lori! You made me laugh out loud when I read this. I can picture it perfectly. My son is ten and I have soooo been there! Sometimes I think, What would Mr & Mrs Huxtable do? They always handled everything so creative and calmly on The Cosby Show! lol
Thanks for sharing and reminding us that even if we have moments where we aren’t perfect parents, it doesn’t mean we aren’t Super Moms.
Born2Shop: I love your last line.
And other moms? Thanks for letting me know I’m not the only one with something to Hyde.
I believe most parents have a side to “Hyde”. We all can get dysregulated emotionally because that is what happens with our children (because they are trying to learn it). Guess who they are trying to learn it from? Yeah, us. It is said 90% of parenting is what we do not what we say. Although I like that you apologized for losing your temper, something that traditional parenting says not to do. So, when did my “Hyde” show up? I’ve got children with sensory processing challenges, so we don’t go long before they get dysregulated and then I do.
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