It came out of nowhere today. One minute I was making eggplant parmesan (a successful attempt to redeem myself from yesterdays dinner disaster…) and the next I was yelling. It was just all too much. My hands were covered in eggs and breadcrumbs, I had two cookie sheets worth of eggplant ready to put in the oven, but not enough room to move.
One child was in the fridge begging, no, screaming at me to get him popsicles and ice cream. The other was trying to get into the cabinet that I was in front of so she could empty endless plastic containers onto the kitchen floor.
And then I was five. And seven. And ten. And fifteen. And twenty. At the time, I never understood why my mom got so aggravated when we were in the kitchen as she was getting dinner ready. When we were trying to do our own thing, or get her to do something for us…
But now I know. You get stretched so very thin, and it happens so quickly.
So I yelled… to get out of my kitchen “OR SO HELP ME GOD!!”
Not that I really know what I would have done if I hadn’t been helped…
But I still yelled. And Fynn ran, and Paige just looked at me like I had five heads. Paige actually yelled back at me. That was pleasantly unexpected!
It happens. And I honestly will not beat myself up about it. Within five minutes Fynn came back and nicely asked for some milk, and he gave me a kiss and hug. It was over.
That’s another thing I never really got when I was little. My mom would get aggravated, but it never lasted long. She’d get mad, then she was done. We always kissed and hugged, then moved on. She never held a grudge (not that I’m aware of anyway). I’m not still mad at Fynn for screaming for popsicles and ice cream. He’s two. He’s my son. I’m not still mad at Paige for trying to empty out an entire cabinet right at my feet. She’s one. She’s my daughter. They’re kids. They’re my kids.
The lessons my mother inadvertantly taught me are numerous. Memories have a funny way of coming back to you right when you need them the most. Today, I could have sworn somewhere in my voice was my mother… if I hadn’t known she was in Florida I would have thought she was standing behind me this afternoon, patting me on the back.