A little self-discipline is always good

Today I put myself in Time Out. Not because I misbehaved, but it was a freakin' close call.

It was one of those days that started off bad and didn't improve. There was a general outcry at the cinnamon french toast on the breakfast menu, followed by a failure to come to a consensus on the Dora The Explorer vs. Berenstain Bears post-breakfast TV time (more accurately known as Mama's coffee break). It kind of went downhill from there.

Eventually I realized I was at a critical point, beyond which lay the uncertain realm of parental behavior generally regarded as heinous and pathetic. In short, I was about to bellow at my children and then quite possibly burst into tears. This would achieve the dual aim of both letting off steam and frightening my children into a temporary submission.

I fled for my bedroom and locked the door. Ignored the pounding on my door. Breathed deeply. Eventually the pounding stopped. I picked up Pride & Prejudice and shut out the rest of the world for a chapter.

When I read everything else ceases to exist. I don't hear suspicious sounds, smell suspicious odors. Situationally speaking, this can be a very good thing. As in this situation. I think it's a little like delta-wave sleep. I once tuned out a fire alarm at school while reading--but I digress.

When I allowed myself out of Time Out, it was strangely calm. Tweenie bopped to some music on her computer game, Rascal and Kye doodled around in the backyard. There was a uniform path of destruction running through common areas, but nothing extraordinary.

I went outside after the boys. They were plucking my tomato plants bare. My tomatoes have shown tremendous resilience this summer. At this point I am down to two plants, of which one came up wild from last year's compost I used to fertilize the bed. Neither of them has more than 3 leaves and the six tomatoes formerly attached to the vine are now stuffed into Twit's kibble dish.

Breathe. Breathe. Shoot evil eyes. And breeeaaaathe.

Back inside again, cleaning up the carnage. At some point I happened by the phone and noticed the answering machine blinking. My friend was laughing at the message greeting. Huh??

"Ma-aa, you better get over here, Rascal's doing something to the pho-one!" Beeeeeeep.

I went back to P&P for more therapy.