By 11 this morning, I had already yelled, "EMILY! SHUT THE F**K UP!" at my beloved only offspring.
Yes, the sounds of profanity before noon must mean One thing!
It's Christmas Eve!
Combined with the imminent arrival of my period makes for a priceless personality combination in the Mother/Wife of the household.
About a half an hour later, she and I were entangled in a life and death struggle over the brushing of her hair.
I tried. I honestly tried to keep my cool with the usual whining and complaining. I was explaining that I was parting it into sections so I could comb out each section. Emily, if left to her own hair brushing devices, waves the brush in the general direction over the top layer of her hair. This leaves the undergrowth to resemble Mirkwood - filled with giant spiders and evil spirits.
It is into Mirkwood that I am forced to delve. I try to be gentle - holding the hank of hair in one hair to deflect some of the inevitable pulling on the roots. I remind her that I want to be done with this as quickly as she wants to have it done.
And after one too many whiny "oooooouuuuucccchhhhh - why can't you just be done?" Followed by "Why can't you just do it quick?".....
I snapped. I held the brush out and began to BRUSH. HARD. Her head began snapping back and forth as she cried louder. I yelled "SEE! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T BRUSH YOUR HAIR" and "THIS IS WHAT TO FEELS LIKE WHEN I AM NOT TRYING TO BE GENTLE!"
Not quite a metal hanger incident ala Joan Crawford....but bad enough.
She ran off to her bedroom - wailing - and slammed the door. I lay down on the bed and waited for my heart to stop pounding.
After ten minutes, I walked across the house and knocked on her door.
"Who is it", she called out.
"It's Your mother - may I come in?"
And the door opened and she stood there...tears still on her cheeks.
"I'd like to apologize and give you a hug", I said - stepping into the room
And she broke down. The tears of a little girl who needs to be consoled.
"That was MEAN", she murmured from my midsection.
"Yes it was and I was wrong to be mean. Can we try to be gentle with each other - I know you are excited about Christmas..."
"I AM excited. I can't help it."
"I know, sweetie. I love you."