Bad Mommy.

Over at Motherhood Uncensored, Kristen Chase is writing a series of posts called Be A Better Parent Challenge.   I've been following it somewhat, but I can't say I've really done anything about it. I need to, though. My patience with my children is at an all time low right now, given the oppressive heat and the stress of work, life, reunions, and medical procedures of doom.  Especially my youngest, who's attention issues and general lack of motivation to hear or do anything I ask is pushing me past the breaking point almost every day.

Yesterday afternoon, as we watched my ten year old at soccer practice in the 100 degree heat, Will played in the sand of a volleyball court nearby. One of the other moms was frustrated that her kid was running around in sock feet, in the sand and dirt, but I didn't care, I just let him play, getting dirty is rarely a hot button for me. I've accepted that the child is a living "Pig Pen" caricature.  But then the temperature started dropping, a cold front moved in quickly from the west, and raindrops started to fall. Because of the thunder, the coach called practice so we all started gathering up our things to head home. Will stayed in the sand, although I called him several times.

And then the sky opened up, literally like a faucet had been turned on, and plastic chairs started blowing around, and we ran for the car trying to get everything in as quickly as possible, water was pouring in the doors and into the seats and allover the steering wheel and I was soaked to the bone, all in about thirty seconds. I turned around and Will wasn't in the car. There was a giant green electric box (like 5 feet square) blocking my view of the sand pit, and I couldn't see him anywhere. And then I panicked.

I don't like heavy storms. I live in Kansas people, these things can go bad in a hurry. I have an underlying fear of being caught out in a severe storm that could turn into a tornado. I know its not that rational, but I will tell you that had I known the possibility that the oncoming clouds contained a freak storm like that, we would have stayed home from soccer practice.

I got back out of the car, or tried to, and the wind blew the door so hard I couldn't hold it open enough to get out without getting my leg caught. I ran around the front of the car back toward the sand pit, and looked back at the car in time to see the sliding door opening and Will climbing in. I launched myself back to the car and into the drivers seat.

And then I lost my ever-loving mind at him.

You know how sometimes you get so angry, so unable to keep it together that you yell in a voice you don't recognize? It's like someone else overtakes your brain and the words that come out of your mouth don't belong to you, they belong to someone else. Last night, at a much needed Girl's Night Out with friends, I asked this question. And one of my friends said, "Oh yes! I call that the Zuul voice."

Even Kristen Chase admitted this week that she doesn't always keep it together. I think we all have a Zuul voice. The difference between having a Zuul voice and using your body as a weapon on your child is both tiny and gigantic. It's like a crack in the wall that starts as a tiny little line. Most of us never cross that line, but we can sure see how it happens. 

Here's hoping my patience will return after I get some answers from tomorrow's test. And school starts next week, which both relieves some of my stresses but produces new ones. I just keep swimming.