I Know Why Animals Eat Their Young

So yesterday I felt like I had hit rock-bottom with my kids. No, I wasn't jacked up on a bottle of Malibu pineapple rum and a handful of Xanax, I just needed a break from my children. A LOOOOOOOOOONG-ASS one. I prefer Malibu coconut rum and Valium anyways...

The day started out innocently enough. Both kids have ballet class back-to-back on Saturday mornings. I loathe dragging them there one more day (I teach enough to be there a lot during the week), especially when I could still be in my PJ's and sipping coffee from my own mug, not the Folger's Crystals Ass Brew the park district provides. Sorry, but it is God awful. So Isabella goes first and I notice she is in class with a child who was, um, shall we say the Anti-Christ in one of my ballet classes last summer? This kid was so off-the-charts naughty she could make Naomi Campbell look like a Nobel Peace Prize winner..

Miss Molly says: "Please don't hang on the bars, Rebecca! I don't want you to fall down and get a boo-boo!"

Miss Molly thinks: "Are you shitting me?! Do I have to tell you one more fucking time this is not the God damn playground?!"

Miss Molly says:" Why don't you set your sweatshirt down. Suzy doesn't like it when you try to pretend she's your doggy!"

Miss Molly thinks: "Did you mom drop you on your head a lot? Or are you a crack baby?! I'm going to take that fucking sweatshirt and hang you upside down like a bat so we can chuck dirty legwarmers at you!! It is not a leash, you freak!"

Miss Molly says: "Could you please stop rolling on the floor, sweetie pie! I don't want anyone to trip on you when we prance like ponies across the floor!"

Miss Molly thinks: "Stand the fuck up already! You have two legs that work just fine so stop the paraplegic routine! I am going to drop kick you like I am playing dodge ball with your head..."

The funny thing is that her older sister was just as bad. We would do cat stretches and she actually turned into a hissing cat who ran away from me all class and licked her hands. Freak family!! The mom had Baby girl #3 about 8 months ago and is preggers with #4. Hello, your offspring is a bunch of crazies so please keep your legs shut already!!!

But back to dance classes...Isabella ran around like she drank a can of RedBull, except it was Snapple Fruit Punch and she spilled half of it all over her over-priced leotard and tights. Isabella loves to play this super-fun little psychological warfare game with me. I like to call it "Screw You, Mommy, It's All Your Fault". I told her maybe we should put the cap back on the juice since it was so messy. She smacked my hand and said, "I don't like you!" I tried to wipe up the mess and tell her we could drink it better at home in a cup. "You're the worst mommy EVER!" Grinding teeth since I am surrounded by parents, some of which know me, I tell her it's time to go home pretty soon to have lunch. "I HATE you!!" I declare, "But I LOVE you!" meanwhile thinking that this shit is so not what I signed up for when I joined the Easy Bake Bun In The Oven Club 5 years ago. As I try to diffuse my rage, I mean, Isabella's mood, I notice there is shriek-like hyena screaming coming for no place other than the dance studio. Where Sophie is supposed to be doing ballet, like we had the big pep talk about all morning. Oh she's in there, wearing her leotard, tights, and ballet shoes (which takes a fucking act of Congress to get her to wear each week), but she is NOT doing anything that resembles ballet. And I know ballet.
Her hair is all crazy, half pulled out of her pony tail because she is writhing on the floor as if she's plagued with dysentery. But no! She gets up and runs around, circling the herd of other dancers and screams as they chase her. Her ballet skills resembled the episode of Seinfeld when Elaine dances crossed with Mr. Peepers from Saturday Night live. She looked like a retarded gangsta monkey with Tourette's. What the fuck am I dragging my ass out of bed for exactly?! Mommy went off the deep end with my trucker vocabulary, weaving a tapestry of "what the fuck?" and "wait till I tell your dad!" and "do you fucking act like that for your teachers at school?!" and "I am so fucking embarrassed!" like a cozy blanket of potty-mouth covered anger all the way home. If you saw me swearing a craning my neck around to make maximum eye contact while I drove home you might have thought I was foaming at the mouth like Cujo, the rabid dog. I was.
The only bad thing my kids can possibly take seriously is removing some of their stimulating, technological entertainment from their world. So no TV, Nintendo, or computers for a day. Then some more smart-ass comments and a few temper tantrums later it turned into two days. Then the bitchy "NOOOOO I didn't!" and bitch-slapping of each other kept going so suddenly we're at 3 days. Holy shit, this is going to suck just as bad for me. But I need to prove I'm not some pussy mom, right? I have to stand my ground! But I soon discover this means hearing, "Mom! Where's the board for Chutes and Ladders?" "Mom! Where's Hullabaloo? " "Mom! This has no batteries!" "Mom! Why does this moving toy look like a big wiener?" Just kidding, they didn't get THAT desperate. Plus Mommy's toy box is locked.
Just finished Day #2 of no TV. Lots of imagination, reading to each other, and general bugging the shit out of each other 'cause it's so much damn fun! Sophie sings and (sorry, sweetie) sometimes sounds like one of the really bad contestants on American Idol. She and Isabella have sing-offs to have me vote on who sings Rihanna's "Umbrella" better. The answer is no one. TV ban is lifted. No where the hell is that rum?.....