If you've never woke up and thought "Today is the day I'm going to kill my child if he/she gives me attitude" there are two options of who you are.
1- You don't have children, and you wake up to peacefulness and a day filled with you.
2- You are Mother Teresa.
I am neither of these things. I am that mother who opens her eyes and thinks about what punishments she will give her children even before they open their eyes. I am that mother who wakes up anticipating that the children will be assholes all day. I am that mother with the constant look of distress on her face.
I believe I walk around my life constantly looking like I have constipation. My eyes are in a permanent squint. There are wrinkles on my temples from how often I rub them. I am that mother who lives in a permanent state of frazzled.
I am that mother who has been asking her child for 2 weeks to clean his room and put his toys away. I am also the mother who throws toys in the trash if the bedroom doesn't get cleaned. I am the mother who has no problem telling her children they can't play with their friends. I yell at my kids in front of their friends. I yell at their friends.
To some of you, I may seem like an overbearing, mean, vindictive mother. Good. Keep thinking that. Because my child will say please and thank you when he is at your house. He will apologize if he does something wrong. He will sob and cry when he gets a punishment, because he knows why he's getting punished.
I'm not raising a friend, I'm raising a child. I learned manners growing up. I'll be damned if I'll let my kid run around like some of these other neighborhood kids. My child will not curse at people. My child will never say the N word. My child will never punch another child just because he can. He used to, but I beat that out of him.
I may be that mom that no one wants to be. I may be that mom that other mothers hate. But my child knows I love him. Just today I informed him that I am allowed to be mad at him, and still love him at the same time. He seems to get that. And today, after a week and a half of yelling and punishing and throwing toys away, he cleaned his room. AND apologized for not doing it sooner.
I'm not trying to raise the most perfect child in the world. But I am trying to raise one right. And if that means I wake up every day ready to kill my kid, then so be it.
Hate me if you want, but I promise I'll never visit my child in prison. I'll never get a call from the cops. And I sure as hell won't be cursed at. In a time when everyone is scared of being arrested for child abuse, I laugh at it. Let the cops come tell me I can't wash my kids mouth of with soap. Let the cops come tell me I can't smack his butt when he pops off with some kind of attitude.
You know what will happen? I'll let the cops know that THEY can handle him when he gets arrested if they don't let ME handle it now.
I actually kind of like being the mom on the block that all the kids are terrified of. And all the parents hate. It gives me a purpose in life.