Losing It.

Losing It.

Losing it. How do you control what is going on in your life when you are left with no steering wheel? Not being in control is an issue for many of us, especially when it comes to raising your kids. They can piss you off. Sometimes that piss gets a little “stanky”.

The toddler years you can forgive because they’re babies. You’re “training them up”, so it’s to be expected. But when that two year old is 16 acting like a two year old trying to act grown, that’s something else.

I’m one of those mothers that require their children accompany the parents to church on Sunday. It was a requirement until they reached the age of 18 a legal adult.

My oldest was “smelling” himself one Sunday morning. For the past couple of months, he had sabotaged our Sundays by purposely dragging his feet.  My youngest, being 10, was more compliant. but my oldest…  He held the family hostage by waking up late, showering too long, losing a sock etc.. We faithfully would arrive at first service 15 to 20 minutes late. Of course there were zero seats in the main sanctuary. We’d be redirected to the Overflow, the older sanctuary with the large movie screen where they streamed church service – live and in living color. We’d take our seats among the late saints, and there were many. I didn’t like being in that number.

My oldest made me so angry! His Dad felt the same, though I think tardiness was more of an issue with me. I wanted to get a seat in the sanctuary for a change. Not sit in the Overflow. Our church was the Praise-the-Lord Flavor of the Month – actually the decade. We experienced a continuous growth spurt, which made seating hard to come by. You had to arrive BEFORE church started to get a seat.

I knew I was not nipping this passive aggressiveness in the bud. I was trying my best to control my temper. I always told my oldest, “Lose control, you lose your power.” I was trying to handle it. But to my dismay, he was handling me. I wanted to somehow deal with it the new school way; you know, patience, firmness, reasoning. However, an Old School ass whooping administered by Dad would have suited my husband just fine.

I couldn’t say I’m gonna leave my son at home. That would have been fine and dandy with him. So I fussed and yelled. And yelled and fussed. My son knew what he was doing. And to top it off, he talked a bunch of “yackadack” the whole time; He didn’t want to go…Why did he have to go, yada yada. Too danged bad. He’d complain the entire time at home and in the car.

One bright Sunday morning driving down Lake Shore Drive, My oldest was doing his usual ranting. His brother sat on the other end looking at him like ‘Here we go again’. In his diatribe, my oldest made a terrible mistake. He got carried away and called me and his Dad Ni@@as. No, he didn’t call us the N word! OH, YES HE DID. I felt my brain snap as the heat from my anger engulf my body like the Human Torch of  The Fantastic Four. It made my hand twitch uncontrollably. The hand swiftly unbuckled my seat belt. It moved rapidly as I watched it sway my right arm back as I turned around to face my son in the back seat of the car.  With a quickness, the hand guided my arm as far back as it could go and swung out toward my oldest’s face. The hand landed hard on his cheek with a mighty smack. His mouth contorted from the sting. I saw surprise in his  eyes. Or was that terror?  I then babbled with reckless abandon how he better never, ever, EVER call me or his Dad  Ni&&#rs or anything other name again. We’re not his homies.

Tears welled up, and this 2 year old teenager began to sob. I snapped back to myself. My husband kept control of the car. I caught that satisfying smirk on his face. Dad reiterated my sentiment to our son to seal the message in his brain. I promptly turned back around in my seat and buckled my belt. Dad kept it movin’ toward our sacred destination.

Did I feel sorry after that? Did I look at my actions with disgust? Did I feel a wave of relentless guilt for slapping the crap out of my son?

Hell no!

Service was very enjoyable that day.

Do you think I was right or wrong?

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    I pursued a satisfying career in the advertising industry, served as a volunteer mentor and parent educator at my two (now grown up) sons' schools and have actually stayed happily married for over a quarter of a century. However, my most gratifying achievement was raising my sons well. I'm not saying there wasn't a little bit of hell raising going on, but you live and learn. Now I'm passing the knowledge on to you. My goal is to turn these nuggets of wisdom into reference books for parents.

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    Check out my other blogs: "Trending Over 40", An informational blog for those over 40 who find themselves social-media challenged, http://trendingover40.com "Black Copy" Reflections of a veteran ad chick, http://eldhughes.wordpress.com. You can find samples of my ad work on this site. Simply click on TV and Print tabs. Also check out my company, Hughes Who Productions http://hugheswhoproductions.com. We develop games and animation for casinos, marketers and educational institutions. Thank you for your interest. Blessings... Edye
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