The Mother Rage

Justin's side of the family is loud. They just are. They're loud when they're happy, with guitars and singing, and children running through the house in a noisy ball of energy. They're loud when they're in disagreement or talking about politics--voices raising loudly to be heard, and everyone talking all at once. I have no doubt that things have always been this way, and that when Justin and his siblings were growing up, the default setting for fights between kids and parents, or even kids and kids was LOUD. Consequently, any time Justin and I disagree (even about small things), I usually find myself saying, "Why are you yelling?!" to which he yells back, "I'M NOT YELLING!"

I'm different. I don't tend to get loud. I tend to be a bit introverted in real life. I don't like conflict in my personal life, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. If such an occasion arises that conflict is inevitable, I don't love "hashing it out" verbally, and would much rather craft a letter laying out my case bullet point by bullet point. I'm not kidding. I literally lay out my case as if I were in a debate with points and anticipatory counter-points. If there's conflict or disagreement, I aim to win, which I can usually best accomplish if I'm calm, cool, and collected in painstakingly making my case. I say all this in order to convey that in general, I'm a pretty mild mannered person, who very rarely (if ever) is just looking for a fight. It takes a lot to get me riled up.

At least, until I became a mom. After which, I became semi-regularly afflicted with something that I like to call "The Mother Rage".

The Mother Rage is something that I wake up with....or in the case of having a newborn, it's something that begins brewing at about 3am. It's Justin going to the store to get beer last night and forgetting my Cherry Coke. It's Lizzy crawling into bed with me at 6am, just as I've finally gotten the baby to sleep. It's the dishes from last night's dinner still sitting on the counter. It's the fact that it is inevitable that as soon as I've prepared a plate of food, the baby suddenly wants to eat again (even if she last ate literally five minutes ago). It's Lizzy dumping out every single one of her markers on the floor any time she wants to color, or her turning on the music on Becca's bouncer and waking her up, even though she has literally been told at least 25 times today NOT TO TURN ON THE MUSIC WHEN THE BABY IS SLEEPING, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. And then, it's Lizzy doing it again, literally minutes later. It's Justin having band practice, and Bible Study, and school...chances to actually converse with other adults, when I've not left the house in days. It's feeling like I can't add an activity that's just for me without our family reaching critical mass. It's the floor needing to be mopped, again. It's toothpaste in the sink, or juice on the floor that I've just mopped. It's Justin walking in the door and innocently asking "What's for dinner?" when all I've eaten all day is a spoonful of Trader Joe's Cookie Butter, which I snuck while pretending to go to the bathroom, with Lizzy banging on the door the entire time saying, "Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?"

Like so many parts of motherhood, The Mother Rage is one of those things that no one tells you about, but that I'm convinced we all experience.

What's more, The Mother Rage is relentless, starting small and growing into bitter resentment if left unchecked. She takes hold of small things and multiples. Such small things. But when combined, they are enough to drive me to adding chocolate chips to my yogurt at 6:00am. Or to contemplate packing up both children before noon and driving to the liquor store to replenish that tequila that we're out of. Or to send passive aggressive text messages to Justin about leaving the pear cider that I just bought out on the counter, unrefrigerated, and now undrinkable. They are enough to make me write off a day as "bad" at 9am, and to keep looking for reasons that the day sucks until I lay my head down at...well....until I think about laying my head down at 2am.

The Mother Rage is in full force today, but she can be battled. By counting blessings, by trips to Target just because, by recognizing the beauty in the mundane, and by talking about The Mother Rage in the third person.

You're officially on notice, Mother Rage. It's you against me. And I don't like to lose.

{Just a quick postscript--this was mostly meant to be a (sort of) funny post about something that I think most moms experience...how small things can just multiply to create a full on RAGE out of nowhere! Although I was definitely feeling rage-y this morning, I promise I'm okay, and laughing about it now :) }