Jun 3, 2012

Crazy Mom Strikes Again

I am still saving to get enough wire to electrify the fence.  While the dogs have been very happy in the house, they are not so happy tied up.  They have betrayed me too many times for me to trust them again, but the boys are a little more gullible.

I got home Friday night and the dogs had been untied in the back yard all day and not gotten out.  I figured they must be happy to be free and able to watch the boys as they roofed. I even had the thought that maybe they had learned their lesson, although my luck does not tend to run that way.

On Saturday morning I was fool enough to trust them when I put them out in the morning.  It wasn't 20 minutes before I heard the chain link rattling, looked out the window and saw them making a break for it.  I was sorry to wake up the entire neighborhood at 7 am by yelling in my scariest voice, but I did.  Sincere apologies to anyone who was still asleep.  

Down the street they came running about 30 miles an hour, hell bent for leather, grinning at each other with their  soft ears flying in the wind.  They came back to me, and were promptly put back on their chains.

A few hours later I noted that my Youngest Baby let them off the chains.  I let this go, thinking that they would stay in the yard as long as they could see the boys.  Also, I must admit, and you don't have to believe it if you don't want to, but with the grown man there they seem to mind better.  This holds true for dogs and boys, and I cannot tell you why but I have just come to accept and even depend on it.  Is it the low voice?  The fact that men act rather than speak?  I don't know why, I just know that men seem to have some authority that women with all our nurturing do not.

In the afternoon I had to take the barricades off one of the fences so I could get the wheelbarrow to the back yard.  Like a fool, I just latched it back so that I would be able to get the wheelbarrow back and forth.

It wasn't 30 minutes until I heard the chain link rattle.  I had my head under some bushes picking up shingle riff-raff, and by the time I got straightened up I caught Shadow trying to squeeze under the gate.  I whopped her on the back with the rake a few times and she cowered right down and got back to where she knew she belonged.  The boys heard the commotion from the roof and asked what was going on.  I just asked them if they could see Jack from their superior vantage point.  They could.

The angel happened to be in the front yard and Jack went right to him.  I came around the house with a face like thunder and a voice to match, telling Jack to get back in the yard NOW.  He decided he would not do as I asked.  What a mistake that was.  He went into the garage, where I grabbed his collar, took off one of my gloves, and beat him about the head and shoulders about 15 times, telling him all the while that if he EVER did that to me AGAIN I would BEAT him half TO DEATH and NOT with a GLOVE either because he had HAD IT with him getting OUT OF THE FENCE and if he got SHOT he would have HAD IT COMING!!!!

Or something to that effect.  When I lose it, which I try not to do, I have no clear memory of the exact words I use, and often no clear memory of what my exact actions were during my fit of rage.  I call it morphing into Crazy Mom.  All I remember is a blank.  I can tell you the general feeling behind what I did, but that is about all.  I never do it unless provoked and I never do it unless I have tried everything else I can think of to teach the lesson.  Sometimes I just snap.  That's just the way it is.  The good thing is that I don't have to do it more than once with anybody who has even half a brain.  It's a great time saver that way.

I want to assure you that Jack was not hurt physically by a soft glove coming down however hard on his head.  His feeling were hurt very badly, though, as they should have been.  And should PETA try to come down on me, I will tell those worthless, money wasting, idiotic people the same thing I would tell DFS if they dared to show up at my door and question my authority as a parent.

 It takes discipline to raise responsible adults. And no, I do not need your "help", if that is what you insist on calling it. My definition of help differs quite markedly from governmental agencies.  There is more to raising kids than checking boxes off a list.  Those checklists are ruining our country and have been for at least 35 years that I can testify to personally.  I am responsible for their lives and their actions up to a certain age.  It would help if grown adults would quit looking the other way and enabling children to do things that they are in no way ready to do.

Just one example of this, and there are many, is allowing children have babies and think they won't have to worry because the government will give them money.  It does not take much money to raise kids, but it DOES take discipline.  Every single day and night.  You have to take a look at the big picture, and kids are simply not capable of seeing the big picture.  Believe it or not, there are rules in the world.  I try to make sure they know 1) what the rules are and 2) better than to break them.  If you think you are helping a child by not making them mind the rules, never mind the law, I would have to ask exactly what kind of "help" that is going to be for that child. Look at the big picture.  Adults are supposed to be capable of that. I'm not saying they can't come out of it, I'm just saying they are going to have to work twice as hard to do it because they didn't learn the rules in the first place.

Anyway, I got Jack back into the yard, and when I turned around the angel had a big smile on his face.  I heard laughter drifting down from up the street, where several neighbors could not POSSIBLY have missed the whole scene.  The angel took it all in stride, saying "Well, Melinda, you throw quite a little tizzy fit when you need to."  He said it with approval in his voice.  I just grabbed a kleenex.  For some reason it makes my nose run when I give a beat down, and said "At least this time it happened immediately enough for him to put the two incidents together."  Get out of fence=get a beat down.  This is surely clear enough for even a dog to understand.

I was telling my favorite ex-step mother the story this morning and she laughed and said I was the same way with the kids.  I would ask several times in a nice voice, and then Crazy Mom would appear and everybody in the room would start paying attention real fast.

All I can say is that eventually I learned with the kids to just ask once and then get up.  Kids and dogs are remarkably similar in that you can talk and talk and wonder how much they are taking in, or you can just get up and get their attention real fast.

Actions speak louder than words.  Even when kids or dogs do not understand your words they know exactly what your actions mean.  You know this is true, right?

There is a Crazy Mom in all of us, or at least there should be.  Crazy Mom can take many forms, but nobody argues with Crazy Mom.  As embarrassing as it was for me to have done that for the whole neighborhood to see, in the end I do not care.  It was worth it.  I have very good neighbors and I think part of that is the fact that they know I will make my kids/dogs mind, even if that means giving them a beat down in the front yard. I don't like to do it; I will do everything in my power to keep from doing it, but I have my limits and when you breach them, hellfire will be  loosed upon your head and body until you understand just exactly what is simply unacceptable.  Right is still right, and that is something that is never going to change.  At least not in my house, and not in the world either if I can possibly help it.

It worked with kids a lot better than it has worked with the dogs, but I think getting shocked will take care of that.  My kids know to listen with respect and take people seriously because Crazy Mom can come out of nowhere, strike with impunity, and leave an impression that you will never forget even if you are in the nursing home with Alzheimer's.

I am actually proud of this, and I have learned that the sooner they learn this, the easier all of our lives will be.  I consider it a vital part of their education, and if done right, parenting is much easier from the ages of 2 to about 14.  The teenage years bring about a lot of challenges, but the memory of Crazy Mom will only work in your favor.  In fact, teenagers will do almost anything to avoid Crazy Mom making an appearance, at least in the front yard.  She may have to make a house call now and then, but that's ok.  Crazy Mom keeps the world within your house running like a train on time.

The one good thing about it is that when the dogs get shocked, I am not going to feel sorry for them.  Mothers have to guard against their soft hearts in order to raise good people.   It is hard to punish the ones we love.  But it's much easier when you know that your punishment will not hurt them nearly as much as what will happen if they continue in their bad habits out in the world.  Their lives will be at stake then, and you will probably not be there to protect them.

And now it is supposed to rain.  We are all thankful for the rest and will be taking naps this afternoon.  I think the boys have already learned to appreciate time off, not to mention naps.

Mission accomplished, at least for today.......tomorrow will be a new one.  I, for one, am ready.


  1. My father once broke his hand hitting his dog. Sam, a big yellow Lab, was eating the neighbor's trash and refused to cease-and-desist upon orders. My dad then whacked him on the flank. . . and managed to catch the hipbone juuuuust right to crack a bone in his hand.

    Sam looked up, said "Mosquito?", and then kept eating.

    I'm not really worried about your glove. :)

    1. LOL Thanks! Your poor dad! Sounds just like my dogs though. They are boxadors, and their tails are practically lethal. Not that they understand how to use them defensively or anything......


These are my thoughts, which sometimes drive me crazy and sometimes keep me sane, but are always entertaining. I call this Lace Your Days With Hope because I can't find enough hope to make an entire quilt out of. Stay tuned, and add your own!