The One With the Momtrum

If you know me personally you’ll know that I’m generally a soft spoken person. I have a quiet voice. Every Principal that has come into my classroom has even mentioned that I have a soft, sweet voice that has a calming effect on the students.

And as I smile angelically, I’m thinking “this guy has never seen me at home,” and thank goodness, because I didn’t know how LOUD I could get until I had children.

Lost in a store? Everyone will know your name before we leave.

Ready to jump off that tall play structure? Yep – enter choir class 101 where my vocal projection training gets put to good use. (And for the record, when I had one child, I was ready there waiting to catch. Once I had two kids, they never seemed to go in the same direction!)

So, yeah, I’ve yelled a few things. And when their safety’s in mind, I don’t care. It’s those other times that bother me.


Enter the past week or so:


I had a sick child. No one likes that. But this guy had a 24 hour bug that I can only be thankful wasn’t a minute longer because it was horrible. I picked up more puke that day than I have in the past 6 years. Poor guy. I felt sorry for him.

Sick child was feeling better and decided to make a snack. I am all about being self-sufficient, but it comes with a trade-off. That day, the trade-off was grabbing the snack out of the pantry and knocking over a glass bottle of 100% pure organic maple syrup. Yes, full bottle, broken glass, and maple syrup. All. Over. My. Floor.

Not to be outdone, little person #2 decided to make cereal for breakfast. Let me tell you, when you hear “Oh no,” it’s already too late.

Still having faith in raising self-sufficient young men, I allow my son to pour a small amount of Sprite as a treat with dinner later on. Needless to say, Sprite is also very sticky no matter how hard you try to scrub and wipe it off your dining room table and burlap table runner.

Up until then, I had maintained the internal mantra of “I love my kids, I love my kids, I love my kids” and graciously helped and said “It was just an accident, no worries. Just clean it up.”
But the kicker, and not so proud mom moment came later that night. It was bedtime and I was DONE. Tired, exhausted, sleepy and my house still smelled like Sprite.

Suddenly I hear whistling and Lincoln Logs tapping and banging upstairs where two children should be sleeping soundly. That was it. Up I went. So fast that quiet, soft spoken, super mom was left on the couch and loud mega mom threw what can only be called, a “Momtrum.”

I said {ahem, loudly} something to the effect of, “That’s enough! Those Lincoln logs are MINE!” I grabbed a handful dramatically, threw them down, and picked up the Lincoln Log tub and stormed out. {Again, dramatically. It adds to the effect.}

Needless to say, no more was heard from the peanut gallery the rest of the night. I went downstairs and I found quiet, soft spoken super mom still on the couch. I instantly regretted my actions; so together we went up and apologized for throwing the Lincoln Logs and a Momtrum at the same time. Thankfully the kidlets were very forgiving and said, “Mom, you’re allowed to yell once in a millennium. It’s okay.” {Um, people, it’s not a lot, but it’s more than once in a millennium unfortunately, but I don’t have time to worry about my child’s math skills. I’m still thinking about the Lincoln Logs.} So I say thanks and we hug it out and even laugh a little bit about my silly Momtrum.

And so, the Lincoln Logs have somewhat become an inside joke in the house. In fact, this was the scene walking upstairs to bed the next night:

 


Thanks guys. The stifled laughter in the background was very reassuring. Next time when I get upset I’ll throw chocolate.


And so, I decided to give moments like this a name: Mom + Tantrum = “Momtrum." And just in case you’re wondering ---when your husband does it, it’s called a MANtrum.


I guess we’ve all been there. Right? Well, to make myself feel better, today I’m asking you - have you ever had a Momtrum moment too?