Can We Say "Psycho"?

Okay, so I have a confession to make that is long over due. Well, 15 days over due to be exact.

Two days before we left for China, I had a "psychotic mommy moment". To start things off, I had had a very long and stressful day.  Needless to say, I was not ready to deal with the whining I was faced with the boys came off the bus that afternoon. While I was helping the boys with their homework, I got a phone call from the house where the boys were scheduled to stay the week we were gone. (Reminder - this is two days before we are supposed to leave).

While she and I were talking, she told me she was a little nervous about having the boys for a whole week. I then became nervous about stressing out the potential care-taker for my children. After talking for a while, I told her that I would find someone else to take the boys for the last two days of our trip.

Alright, who can I find to watch my boys for two days on such short notice? Plus, it either has to be someone who lives near the school (walking distance) or in our apartment complex because no one drives their kids to school, and the students are not allowed to take any bus but their own.

There was a family in the ward who had offered to watch Jacob and Andrew if we needed them. I asked Jacob how he would feel about going to that family's home. Jacob was adamant that he only go to one particular friend's home. (Problem: at that very moment, the friend's mom was taking him to the hospital with a mystery illness and I felt just a little tacky calling to ask if she could watch Jacob for two days). As the minutes and hours continued to go by, I was becoming more and more stressed about what to do with the boys for the last two days of the week. I kept offering different homes to Jacob, all which he continued to reject because he either did not know them (okay, that's understandable) or he didn't want to play with their kids. Aaaaaaaaaa!

I was frantically making phones calls downstairs, trying to find an acceptable home for the boys. No luck.

Demoralized and frustrated, I came upstairs to get something. Just as my foot reached the top step, a light saber came whizzing by my nose. Attached to the end of the light saber was...Jacob. The same Jacob, who, the day before, had smacked me in the hand with the same light saber, causing one of my knuckles to bruise and swell. 

That was enough to unleash the psycho! I snatched the light saber away from Jacob, and kind of flung it at the couch with a, "Get this out of my face" attitude. Come to think of it, I may have actually said those very words. 

The whole thing kind of happened in slow motion, "Geeeeeeet thiiiiiiiiiiiiis ouuuuuuuuuut offffffff myyyyyyyyyyy faaaaaaaaaaace." And as the light saber left my hand I knew immediately it was going to ricochet off the floor and into our brand new TV. 

So there we are, the three of us: the boys with their mouths hanging open and me, with a look of shock/terror on my face. The light saber hit the floor at exactly the right (or wrong) angle to relaunch itself into the air. 

BANG! Right into the bottom of the screen. 

I frantically ran over to the TV and began whipping away the scratch marks saying, "Please don't tell Dad I did this!" After a few seconds, I realized I may have a caused a bit more damage than a few scratches. I tentatively reached for the remote, and with shaking hands, turned on the TV.

Not only could you plainly see the point of impact and the shatter marks emanating from the epicenter - but also a black half circle about 1/4 the size of the screen now cut into the picture. I immediately burst into tears and sank to the floor. 

Okay, so any hope I had of my kids ever forgetting the fact that I threw A LIGHT SABER into a TV is now completely gone seeing as I have now seared the image of me subsequently having a mini (or possibly full-blown) melt down, into their brains. Scary! I am sure they thought I was a complete lunatic. Well, if I saw someone do that I certainly would think they were.

The boys gave me hugs and I apologized for being crazy. I then called Scott, sobbing, to tell him what I had just done. I thought for sure he was going to explode. Instead, he handled it really well and said, "I broke the first TV. So now it looks like were are even." (For those of you who don't know, our last TV had a permanent green spot from falling off the couch on which it was placed). 

So, a few lessons learned:

(1) Scott and I have bad luck with electronics

(2) I have a new resolve to control myself when I am frustrated so my kids will not have a book load of stories to share with their therapists when they are older

(3) I have a great family which forgives me even when I damage our main source of entertainment. (Even though now it has become the boys' new source of entertainment to tell and show people my little "accident").

HOWEVER. I did go see my endocrinologist two days ago and she told me she had me on way too much medication; that my levels were too high. She asked, "Have you been overly agitated lately?"

"Why, yes. Yes I have!"

Sometimes is it nice to pass a little of the blame on to something else ;)

But honestly, I still feel awful for what I did. Hence, I have created this post, a self imposed public flogging, to atone for my misdeed. 

Here is a photo of our one and only splurge on an electronic device. We bought our little friend here just eight months ago. I am so sorry, Scott.......