PMS Journal Entry, 25th Anniversary Edition: Bitch on Wheels

Yesterday was a lousy day, a hormonal hurricane of impatience, hollering and general parental failure. However, on reflection, I can remember some good things I did, too.

Good: When I found myself standing at the kitchen sink at 10:30 a.m., feeling the tears coming as my 6 year old yelled at me, I stopped. I bit back the tears, walked to the calendar and noted that, yes, Dorothy, you are P minus 5 days.

Bad: I still spent the rest of the morning doing battle with said 6 year old, chasing him around tables and couches, guiding him to his room or his corner.

Good: Realized that my boys can smell PMS on their mom the way a dog can smell fear. Took deep breathes and repeated, “You have PMS, they are children, you have PMS, they are children.”

Bad: Still let their bad behavior get to me. Yelled way too much, and smacked both boys on the butt at different points.

Good: Resisted the urge to email everyone I’ve ever heard say they would never smack their kids, especially those with no kids or just one, and tell them to bite me.

Bad: Drank lots of coffee, ate lots of chocolate.

Good: Considered that perhaps the 8 million articles on preventing PMS that advise avoiding chocolate, caffeine and alcohol may have a point after all. Decide to try cutting down on those things during PMS week. Next month.

Bad: Got to the point with my boys that I didn’t even want to speak to them or play with them. Sat at my computer working and let them fend for themselves, the brats!

Good: Called Brian and arranged for him to take charge of the kids after work.

Bad: Did order five pairs of shoes after finding the Amazon sale through WantNot.net.

Good: Did not order every other thing I could find through Wantnot.net. Did get some free stuff though. (Gosh, that Mir's so pretty!)

Bad: Mentally wrote a scathing email to an editor who didn’t hire me, the one who at first said she would hire me in the next round but then passed. Thanked her for her consideration, then berated her for telling me they decided not to hire a second round of writers when that is obviously not the case. Explained how rejection hurts but rejection with a lie attached is just plain insulting.

Good: Didn't send it.

Bad: Realized that this summer marks the 25th anniversary of getting my period. Wondered why, after a quarter century of experience, I still cannot prevail over the hormonal ravages of PMS. It gets me. Every. Time. Also? Ben has been such a pain in the ass lately! And?? I feel like the meanest mom on the planet!! Maybe I’m just a bitch who uses PMS as an excuse.

Good: Refused to wallow. Called a moratorium on thinking for the day. Tomorrow’s a new day, yadda, yadda. Went to Amazon.com and ordered Your Six Year Old: Loving and Defiant.

Bad: In the waiting room at Ben’s speech therapy office, while I stood with Ava on my hip talking to the therapist, John kicked the shape-sorting bucket that a little boy was playing with on the floor. Hard. Struggled, under the gaze of three other mothers, to administer a timeout to my wayward charge while retaining the therapist’s words. In the van, as I buckled Ben in, he looked at me and said, “Hey, big nipples, stinky butt,” sending both boys into Beavis-and-Butthead laughter.

Good: Decided that the boys should not have the ice cream I had planned to get them after speech therapy. I, however, should. I pulled into McDonald’s drive through and ordered myself a cone. This was my first ice cream since giving up dairy for Ava last summer and, with the element of due punishment for the boys added in, it was the most delicious I have ever eaten. I turned up Supertramp’s “Take the Long Way Home,” on the radio to drown out Ben’s incessant whining and, obligingly, took the long way home to savor my soft serve.

“Cause you’re the joke of the neighborhood
Why should you care if you’re feeling good
Take the long way home
Take the long way home ...

“Does it feel that your life’s become a catastrophe?
Oh, it has to be for you to grow, boy.
When you look through the years and see what you could
Have been oh, what might have been,
If you’d had more time.

So, when the day comes to settle down,
Who’s to blame if you’re not around?
You took the long way home
You took the long way home ...”

Good: Drove and thought about how hard Brian and I will laugh about this later, me eating ice cream in front of my deprived/depraved boys. Felt glad that, unlike the poor bloke in the song, I do have more time. And, I am home.