Irrational Mom Anger

I have irrational anger. And I’m not a completely irrational person, nor am I particularly angry. But in my mommy life, I have found the mundane to be maddening.

For example: sirens. I live in New York City. They’re expected, right? But what about after 45 minutes of strolling when Fia FINALLY succumbs to sleep? It happens constantly: an obnoxious siren wails by. Probably to save someone’s life. But damn it, it interrupted her REM and now I’ve lost the nap. Great. Thanks a lot.


Then there’s the old ladies, the maternal grandma types. Revered and respected. And yet, I find myself wanting to pull out duct tape and handcuffs. Just as Fi is dozing off in her stroller, they come and huddle. They’re like hens and she’s the egg, being smothered.

“Look at the baby!!! Isn’t she cute?” they say, wriggling their hands into our personal stroller space. This of course makes Fi light up, knowing she has once again eluded naptime. Yeah yeah, I know, it’s a tough problem when one has a beautiful baby. But seriously, I can’t be mean and shush them, can I? Plus, they swoop in so fast, I hardly have time to jerk the stroller and run the other way. We need an invisibility cloak.

And don’t even get me started on the construction workers. A cement drill starts up right when I walk by…really? Are you so oblivious to the world around you, trying to be a hard worker, that you can’t notice a BABY IS SLEEPING????

And damn you city bus. Get your breaks fixed…PLEASE. You grind and shriek to a stop on every corner of my neighborhood. It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard times 1001. If I were a spitter, I’d wet you down with all the saliva I could muster.

But a mom doesn’t do those things. She doesn’t throw rocks at ambulances, punch old ladies, scream at construction workers and spit on buses. After all, we’re trying to set an example for our children.

And in case I get some mean-awful-nasty comments on this one, please know that as a requirement to read my blog, you must bring a sense of humor.

crying Fi

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  1. by Heather Morgan Shott

    On July 6, 2011 at 4:09 pm

    As a fellow New Yorker, I totally get it! My other pet peeve is when a stranger touches Mason, especially on his hands or face — oftentimes the grandmotherly types that you mentioned in your post. We’ll be out walking or on the subway and boom, someone does it. I always grin and keep my mouth shut (while not-so-subtly shifting him away from the person) but it’s just the worst. Who knows where those hands have been?!

  2. by Heather Nicole

    On July 7, 2011 at 10:42 am

    I am with you!!!! It always happens at our apartment, someone dog walks outside our door and just starts barking, just as my sons eyes close. I am a total animal lover, but I could just…. Ahhhh!

  3. by Wolf Mama

    On July 7, 2011 at 12:25 pm

    Or how about when you’re walking and trying to manage 2 kids and people cut you off or try to get ahead of you or somehow disapprove of your existence with their glances-mostly at grocery stores. What the heck am I supposed to do? Never get groceries and lock myself inside?? A lady SERIOUSLY backed her car into my cart with my children in it because I didn’t see her get in her car while I was loading my car and she wanted out rightthisminute. She’d rather hit my kids with her CAR then wait one minute and make sure I saw her. I mean, come on, use your horn next time. That was a serious mommy anger moment.

  4. by Greg

    On July 7, 2011 at 3:52 pm

    I’m always creeped out when someone says our toddler it cute or says my pre teen daughter is pretty or something. Maybe 50% creeped out (protective), and 50% proud. I know people have good intentions, but we are the ones who want the best for them even if it’s getting a nap so they can refresh and grow. Other people and things that might come their way that we can’t control is automatically unsettling in some amount. We live with other people and any time someone goes to the bathroom in the night, our youngest wakes up. He has a terrible time sleeping as it is.

  5. by Jill Cordes

    On July 7, 2011 at 6:07 pm

    Hey gang. Thanks for the comments. I love hearing the stories. It is pretty funny isn’t it? I can imagine the backing up in the car thing at the grocery store. Maddening. I’ve wondered before if having a “baby on board” sign in my window would make a bit of difference. In my pre-baby days if I saw someone with one, I would not have understood why they were telling me that (that’s how clueless I was). But now if I saw one, I would definitely cut them a break.

    Heathers–my cat goes outside her door in the morning and meows if we don’t keep him locked in our room. He knows that if she wakes up, we have to get up and therefore he’ll get fed. I guess that makes him semi-brilliant, but it’s also infuriating.

    Dirty hands from NYC–ick. I always think about how if I don’t take my shoes off, I’m walking around my house with the F train on my soles. Gross!

  6. by Yvonne

    On July 8, 2011 at 5:28 am

    I totally get the irrational Mom moments. I used to get so annoyed at the birds and the sun! LOL My kids’ bedrooms face East. In the Spring the windows are open and those rotten birds start singing around 3-4am! Then the sun is up by about 5am. Blackout curtains just gave the room a bright navy light. My DS was a terrible sleeper so when I got him to sleep I wanted him to stay asleep! Then there was the cute little dog down the block, the Express bus on the corner…

  7. by Jenny

    On July 15, 2011 at 3:43 am

    It totally sucks when people come ringing the doorbell or bang on the door (Jehovahs) just when the baby just went down for his nap. Doesn’t really help at all to have a dog who barks at the slightest sound either. Dame dog. And damn unwanted visitors.

  8. by Dallas Photographer

    On September 21, 2011 at 8:52 am

    I am also a descendant of Penelope Johnson to Elizabeth Clark, and on down into the McMath and Hogg families, all via the direct female line to my Mother Kay Kyle, the Granddaughter of Lucinda Hogg, the cousin of Ima Hogg of Texas. I am in the process of trying to trace back the huge amount of matches of Jewish ancestry that I found with my MT-DNA test. I matched perfectly with at least 87 people who knew their families to be Jewish.