Today I was finishing up my shift at Herbally Grounded when El Jefe called with some news that he was D-O-N-E with the kids. He was motivating the Chunks to clean their room and he had had enough. “I’m done,” he said, “I’ve yelled like Chris Farley twice.” Like Chris Farley? I hung up the phone giggling. Which Chris Farley yell was it, I wondered?
I decided it was this one:
There are a few times in my life where I’ve looked back and thought “holy crap I didn’t know I had it in me.” It started, really, at child birth (uh, not the birth of me, the birth of my children). I didn’t know I could bellow like that. Barbaric really.
It’s like this: when I became a mommy, I also birthed a beast inside me. It doesn’t come out often. I swear. But there are points in motherhood where you try to stay calm and put all your energy to stave off that screech that is so angry and gutteral that it flexes your vocal chords so hard that you say “ouch, why’d I do that?” afterwards. But it still emerges. So suddenly, too. You snap. It’s just like Chris Farley and the french fries: voice is calm, calm, calm, calm then Raaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!
Anyway. Was that the yell, El Jefe? Or was it the other one, the more motivational one, where they’re gonna “live in a van down by the river!”?
By the way, you are still in the “Nicest Boy in America” Club and as well as the “Greatest Dad In the Western Hemisphere” Society~ I feel that needs to be reiterated here. (Note to reader: I find it a bit of an exaggeration to say “Best dad in the world” Or “Nicest boy in the universe.” Really, how could you know that? I find my titles for El Jefe are closer to the truth and therefore more fitting)
So, my Love, please don’t beat yourself up….