She emerges in the last minutes before ballet...CCD...mass. She rears her ugly head right as you have settled down into blocks, ponies, barbies. She surprises you, without warning, wait..maybe she did give a warning...but you are only three or five. She starts with sweet requests, "Please get your socks on.." She may even chime in with her quirky Character trait of the month that she picked up from the Duggar family website and tacked on her bulletin board, "Are we being 'attentive,' please find your shoes..." However, the blood starts to boil as the clock keeps moving. The realization that she cannot stop time has hit her yet again, a constant blow. Maybe its more the realization that she is a poor manager of time. The Rushing Mommy Monster feels the edge of her teeth as her fangs start to grow in, the patient requests are now orders, there is a hint of near... yelling, and almost...screaming. She keeps saying "late" and "are you listening?" and "errrrr." Why aren't the van keys in the shell bowl by the front door? Quick pack a snack. No, you may not wear crocks. Come here so I can put this hair tie in your hair!! The Rushing Mommy Monster reaches her breaking point as the carseat, buckling up dance commences.
Then calm comes in the eyes of a child, the three year old usually because the five year old is begging for the Tangled soundtrack to be played and the 19 month old is shoving old goldfish crackers that she found in her car seat in her mouth. She says, "Mommy, are you mad?"
It is not of shame but awareness of my own weak human state that I sigh and say,
"No, I am just a little impatient. I am not mad."
She has the biggest chocolate brown eyes, "Oh, I thought you were mad."
The Rushing Mommy Monster CAN be mad, furious really...and it all seems so sudden. One time she screamed at the littles in the garage, GET IN THE HOUUUUSSSSEEEEE!!!! but it was a mean and low yell. They had little deer in the headlight eyes and about had accidents.
My name is Stephanie and I am a Rushing Mommy Monster. I am taking steps to control this person inside. I breathe. I laugh (mostly at myself for getting into the last minute jams I find myself in). I just do it and if I can fake my way through the hurry with joy, I am convinced that joy really soon will replace the toxic anxiety that seems to overcome the Rushing Mommy Monster. Joy and really giving myself plenty of time.