Mark and I had our bowling league last night. While we were gone the boys did water painting. Sully apparently commissioned a painting from our babysitter, Katie. When we came home, he showed me the painting and said, “That’s Nice Mom, and that’s Angry Mom, and that’s Nice Brady in the middle.” (Apparently Brady does not get angry.)
I learned two things from this painting. 1. My children think I suffer from multiple personality disorder and 2. When I am angry, I am not nice.
While fairly comical, it does make me a little sad that I spend enough time being Angry Mom to warrant a painting. (And I am ever so slightly concerned about what paintings he might bring home from preschool.) I am suffering from some bouts of hormone-induced rage brought on by the weaning of breastfeeding (yay!), but that is no excuse.
Of course I get angry. It is kind of hard not to when you walk into the bathroom and toilet paper is stretched from the roll on the wall all around the bathroom and into the sink and the top of the soap dispenser is off and all of the soap is dumped into the sink which is now full of bubbles and the suds are all over the floor. Or when everyone is ready to walk out the door for school and work and one boy takes a frozen gogurt and runs it through the other one’s hair. Or when I am in the kitchen washing dishes and the kids ask me for things when their father is sitting in the other room watching football. I am going to get angry, I am human.
I decided that being angry and being nice do not have to be mutually exclusive. I will be nice, even when I am angry. I think I will start singing instead of yelling, you know, like a musical. It is hard to sound angry when you are singing. I already make up songs for all the things we do in our daily routine so now I will just come up with some new ones that include disciplinary actions. Maybe the next water painting of me will be all Mary Poppins-esque. That has got to be better than Angry Mom.