Sassy's Up Late Again

So it's true. I can hear Shitfoot's words echoing in my head: "You are more man than woman." And he was right. No, he didn't mean I have a hairy back or I scratch my crotch too much. My personality--my brain function, maybe, is much more masculine than feminine. I just communicate and think more like a man than a woman. I just watched a piece on Today with What's-his-ass Mr. Mars vs. Venus and a female linguist talking about the way men and women argue, and I realized that all the things they said about men were more true about me than the things they said about women. I don't know, maybe I have ADD. All I know is, when I get frustrated or angry, my brain shuts down. Sometimes I can't speak... not in a "I'm paralyzed." kind of way, and not out of fear, but I just forget how to translate what's in my head into organized words and sentences--like I revert back to about 4 years old. The thoughts and emotions fire so quickly, I can't catch any of it sharply enough to even recognize it, much less express it verbally. So when I get upset, and there's something to work out, I am so sidetracked by the tornado in my head that not only am I not talking about the problem, but I'm not expressing my anger, either, which is even more frustrating, and I end up thinking/feeling more about being angry than the thing that made me angry. And unfortunately, Rusty is still trying to learn how to deal with it all.

I had a really bad day with the kids yesterday afternoon. DS had a complete meltdown in a store, and ended up in a full-out tantrum (which he hadn't done since he was two, so I was really shocked). For some reasons, in these instances, I have a Herculean ability to remain calm. I learned long ago that when a little one is having a tantrum, any emotional reaction from you just feeds it, so I turn it off. In the moment, I am able to remove emotion from the equation, I don't take it personally, and I can remain calm and deal with it. Maybe I see myself in their behavior--I know what it feels like for your brain to be swirling like that, I just don't act it out. So he started screaming, ripping things from the shelves and throwing them at me. I was not about to drop everything and walk out of the store (sorry, he doesn't get control of my day), so I grabbed him by the wrist and walked him to the cash register. Naturally he dropped to his knees every four or five steps, and was clawing my arm trying to get free the whole way. He even resorted to biting me a few times, and kicking me in the shins. I restrained him and completed my transaction without losing my cool, and carried him out to the car. As I was placing him in his booster seat and buckling him in, he drew back and with a clenched fist, punched me in the jaw. Now, I feel the need to repeat: this is *not* normal behavior for this child. I haven't seen him throw a tantrum like this, or try so sincerely to hurt me in so long, I was absolutely SHOCKED. So the punch he delivered triggered a knee-jerk reaction: without a nano-second's hesitation, I slapped him across the face. I don't believe I have *ever* done that before. And he just froze. He was flabbergasted. He looked at me in absolute shock. "Didn't think I'd do that, did you? When you beat up on somebody, you have to be prepared for them to fight back." He just tightened his lips and sat with a look of fury on his face. At least he wasn't screaming and kicking anymore.

For the rest of the evening, both he and his sister were chock full of attitude, and by the time they were both in bed, I was so disgusted and frazzled, I couldn't think straight. I sat down on the couch and turned on Lost, and knitted. There's something nice and zen about winding and looping the yarn around the needles that really helps me settle my brain down and get my thoughts back down to one or two at a time. But Rusty was ready to play. Yes, usually once the kids are in bed, we can cuddle or talk about adult stuff, or even vent about things we couldn't say in front of the kids. But what I needed the most was to just STOP thinking for a while. I had such a bottleneck in my head, I couldn't sort it out. And for GOD'S sake, I didn't want to make out, either. See, I know he probably thought that making out would help take my mind off of things. But as bad as I felt, I just couldn't go there--it's like sitting on the new white couch after a long, sweaty workout at the gym. I had to get the "bad" out of my head first--I don't want to contaminate the good thing we have with all my head-baggage.

Now I can only hope I haven't ruined the rest of the week by grounding DS from just about everything that he spends any decent amount of time doing for the rest of the week...