Red Hot Fire Breathin’ Mama or “Not all those who wander are lost”

Today at school, as always I was on lunch duty and when Autumn came to the table she was crying. She said she wanted to dry her hands. She had just washed them for lunch but we were out of paper towels but they were now refilled. I told her to go ahead and go dry her hands and as she walked back to dry her hands, another teacher, whom she adores, took her hands and started leading her back to the lunch tables.

She was in complete protest. The teacher didn’t ask her where she was going or why (Autumn tends to wander – oh, the life of a staff kid) and Autumn was loosing it. The kids were loud as they had been all day (it being two days until break) and I had to yell over them for the teacher to stop dragging her back to the table because she wanted to dry her hands (at this point I’m sure her hands were dry but…) I walked closer to help out and the teacher said, “stop yelling at me!” I just said, “I’m not, I was just trying to get you to stop.”

I don’t remember what she said next (and I really don’t know how my voice sounded when I told her to stop) but it didn’t end friendly. I was mad. I was hungry. I was slamming things around in front of the kids but jeez. Autumn is at school five full days a week while I’m teaching. It’s hard on all of us but she does deserve the respect we give all the other students. It was pure miss-communication but when that mama demon rares her ugly head, there is no holding back for me. I can’t take it. I grow fangs and talons and large curly horns.

When I feel that someone is not listening to my child or blaming something on my child, I just want to tear into them. I know I often don’t wait to listen either but damn-it I’m her mother. A rage like no other arrests my heart and I feel like I’m going to blow. It’s scary and out-of-control and all powerful. I have no doubt that if someone or something attacked her or if there was a friggin’ Cadillac sitting on her chest I could move it with my lung power alone. I guess the lesson is, don’t mess with my kid; I’m screwing her up well enough on my own thank you.

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