After reading Braja's post on her mom saying "I will annihilate you!" and a Twitter Moms group that I recently joined called "Bad Mommies" that prompted us to share the worst thing we've ever said to our children. I am prompted to reflect on some of the more questionable parenting choices I've made. Unfortunately, I have flown off the handle and said more terrible things than I could remember or recount. I remember being keenly aware, when my oldest was turning from three to four years old, that he would start remembering things, like permanent memories that he could recount to his friends in college! Things like mommy swearing like a sailor, or mommy saying, "Stop crying like a little girl" or "If you say 'NO' one more time, I'm going to stab myself in the ears with pencils. I can't take it anymore!!!" So, I've stopped the swearing and I never threaten to commit suicide or bodily harm to myself anymore. I do, on occasion, still tell the boys to stop acting like babies or little girls when they are being particulary whiny and fragile, though. I can't help myself! Even when I know it is degrading to little girls and to myself, in a way. It just makes me crazy and I continue the cycle of socializing men to "buck up" and "be little soldiers."
Hold up, this is going in a direction I never intended. I have neither the time nor the inclination to get all deep and philosophical about how I am turning my boys into little macho misogynists who are afraid to show emotion. It is just that we have so much emotion constantly flying around our high-strung house already; I am just trying to get them to cut back on it (by any means necessary). :) I am sure that my boys will grow into confident, responsible men... that will know first-hand that you treat your significant other like a queen, with love and respect and gratitude. Um, ....I'll let you know how that goes. ;-)
So, back to the point:
Back when CC was a wretched 3-year-old, shaming the memory of his merely terrible two's, the then Furious Four took a trip to Iowa to visit family. We were given a lovely room in the house that was large enough to contain all of us and was located in a quiet area that would afford our little boys a nice place to nap. Our second day there, CC was imploding because he was so tired and I was determined to get his little hiney to sleep. Our darling baby Destructo was an angel back then, so happy to be held or to sit in his carseat, always a smile and a snuggle or a cheery wave from the floor. CC seriously turned the dial to 11 when he turned three, so I never should have trusted him alone, but after lying down with him for half an hour only to have him giggle and try and tickle me and do other supposedly "cute" things, I gave up and told him to go to sleep "or else" and went to sit on the other side of the door. I thought if I could still hear him I could keep him from trouble without necessarily having to see him and vice versa - he knew I was right there.
I thought wrong. I didn't hear anything. I eventually went downstairs. Then he started to yell again "MAMA!! MAMA!! DADDY!! MAAAAAMAAAAA!" Not distressed, just LOUD. I went back upstairs, opened the door and was dismayed, no, aghast, no, DUMB STRUCK by what I found...
CC had taken a recently opened extra-large canister of baby formula, opened it, and dumped its entire contents on the carpeted floor. And then he rubbed his little feet into the carpet on top of it as he walked back and forth over it; smashing it into the shag. It is a good thing we were visiting family and not at home because if we had been, I cannot vouch for what might have happened to him. ;( As it was, I grabbed him by the arms, carried him at arm's length to the bed and put him in it. I snatched away his bottle (that he still slept with, filled with water) and murderously hissed at him, "If you do not stay in this bed I will take your bottle away forever." Thinking this was not enough of a threat, I added, "Not only will I take it away, I will put it in the road and run over it with Daddy's truck. And then I will run over it again and I won't stop running over it until it is smashed into little, tiny pieces."
In all the days previous and years since, I have never seen a child look as terrified or compliant. He actually was asleep in less than 10 minutes and Daddy-007 and I spent half an hour getting the formula out of the carpet after he got up.
It's not a proud moment, but it happened. I think he's forgotten about it.... I hope he has. I know I'll never forget it!
What embarrassing thing have you done or said to your child that you hope they forget? Post anonymously, if you like, I don't care. :)