Behold! Fear the wrath of thy mother, lest I smite thee!

Yesterday I finally got the car back after two weeks of Doug driving it to work and back. They gave him a work van (brand new) along with some nifty tools, a laptop, and a cell phone. Thank god the car is back.

I decided to venture out of my cave and go to the bank yesterday, along with my offspring. We had a play date set up with Doug's sister, Kelly for later that afternoon. I know how Jared can act up, especially in the bank, or anywhere we stand in line where there's nothing for him to do. Soooo, I made it crystal clear to him that if he acts up in the bank, he doesn't get to go play later on.

I'm already in a pissy mood because it's windy, and after I entered the bank the first time, I realized I forgot the checks in the glove box, so I had to drag both kids out to the parking lot, grab the checks, and go back inside, only to wait in a disappointingly long ass line. As I fill out the deposit form, Jared of course decides he wants to play on the chairs. Not just sit in them and look at all the strange desert folk, no... he decides it's much more fun to climb on the back of the chair and flop down. Then he decides the chair next to it looks a little more fun, so he jumps from the chair he's in to the chair right next to it. The whole time he's doing this, the bank is filling up quickly and he shoots "spiderman webs" at every new customer who enters the bank. And he does this LOUDLY. After I tell him at least three times that he better get his butt over here now, or we aren't going to Greg and Kelly's, he moseys on over to me.

I breathed a little sigh of relief. Then, he decides to plop his butt down on the dirty ass floor and rock Jade's carrier back and forth VERY forcefully. (Jade's making a loud cat-like noise during the entire time, by the way) I very nicely asked him to stop, to which he replied a quick "no". So, a little sterner, I say "Jared, if you want to go Greg and Kelly's today you have to be a good boy. That means you need to listen to me, and don't tell me no". Jared billowed "I SAID NO!" Okay, that's it kid. All eyes are on me of course. I have a baby who sounds like a cat in heat, and a very defiant 3-year-old who is making me look like a fool this very minute. I grabbed him by his arm, knelt down to his level, and let him know he better stop this crap right now or I am taking all his toys away for the afternoon. So he decided to stand up and pout. Fine. I can deal with pouting. Pout all you want, just please stay quiet.

Finally it was my turn at the teller. Jared decided the brochure on the wall next to the teller's window looked like fun to read, so he pulled it out and showed me. Okay, no problem. Then, he pulls out more.... and more..... and more....and throws them on the freaking floor. I felt my face turn red. I turned to him and through clenched teeth told him to pick them up RIGHT NOW. And, he did. Thank god. He decided to keep one brochure for himself though and put it on top of Jade's head. Aparenently, she looked really funny. She didn't like it too much though, considering it was pretty much covering her eyes. I told him to knock it off, and if he didn't it again, we weren't going anywhere that afternoon. Not even 5 seconds later, he did it again. That's enough, I've had it. "okay Jared you just lost your play privilege today. We not going anywhere You haven't been doing what your told, so you don't get to play with Justin and Breanna".

Ladies and Gentleman, hold onto your hats and glasses, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

He starts hopping up and down, and screaming, and hpyerventalating. I could feel the stares I was getting by everyone in the entire damn bank. I could hear them condem me as a mother in their thoughs too.
Holy shit. Get me outta here. Now.
The teller is almost done, and I calmly tell Jared to stop throwing a fit, and we will leave soon. He shouts "I'm gonna crack you and shoot you mommy". Nice. That's nice. My son's going to shoot me. Great. Now, not only do I have a screaming, crying, defiant holy terror, I have a screaming, crying, defiant, VIOLENT holy terror. What must those people be thinking of me? Probably that I let my child watch rated R movies all day like "Rambo" or "The Terminator", and what a bad mother I must be.

The teller finishes up with me, and I grab him by the hand, and we get the hell outta dodge. Fast. Actually, he calmed right down as soon as the teller finished. I was fuming. FUMING I tell you. I couldn't talk, I just drove. When we got home, he was asleep, and he looked so peaceful. He did actually apologize to me later that day, much to my surprise. It worked out well in the end because Kelly's kids were sick anyway, and Doug didn't want Jared to get sick all over again.

What a day. What a nightmare. Do I really want any more kids? I'm going to have to think about that one.