We’ve all been there, right? The kid or kids are out of control, you’ve lost the ability to halt or help the tantrums, you’re ready to capitulate to any demand, even one for a pony that will live and poop in the family room, just to get the noise to stop. You cannot take any more whining, you cannot explain the why’s behind your rules any more and you are done. Flat out done. Like stick-a-fork-in-me-preferably-in-me-eardrum-so-I-can’t-hear-the-screaming-anymore-done. What you would really like is a certified Bad Behavior to break out so you have an excuse to sit the kid in time out and just. breathe. for. a. second.
There should be a Mommy Time Out. Not just the kind of time out where you hand the out-of-control toddler to your co-parent of choice and stomp off to the basement to pout and fold laundry. And not the kind where you let your kid sniffle and atone on the Time Out chair while you walk the fine line of not making eye contact and also not taking an eye off the little ingrate because he’s been known to use time out to start singing happy little songs to himself like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. No, I’m talking the kind of time out that actually accomplishes what a time out for a kid accomplishes – getting you out of the cycle of behavior that’s trouble and giving you time to regroup. Will 2 minutes in a straight backed chair do that for you, Mommy? Oh hell no.
No, what Mommy Time Out would look like is a cross between a Starbuck’s, a Ben & Jerry’s Scoop Shop, and the most awesome dive bar you’ve ever been to at 4am on a Saturday night. Maybe with a roving pedicurist thrown in for good measure. You could get something frothy, and frapped and caffeinated if what you need is a massive re-charge before handling day-care pick up and dinner. Or if you need to anesthetize your brain with a massive load of sugar, fat and carbs, there would be Dublin Mudslide (or Phish Food or Chunky Monkey or Stephen Colbert’s Americone Dream or….What’s that? What do you mean my knowledge of the Ben & Jerry’s flavor catalog is borderline pathological? Like you’ve never had a a day so bad that it drove you to the freezer section.) available in big bowls with equally big spoons. And if you need a drink – and really, who doesn’t? – there would be a grizzled bartender to laconically pass your poison across the bar and not say a word because the last thing you want is human interaction.
And if you want all three, then honey, let me introduce you to a Double Mudslide Latte with a healthy shot of Irish.
Oh, wow. That sounds really good. Why hasn’t anyone invented that yet?
After a session at Mommy Time Out you could go home (in a cab if need be and wouldn’t be driven by someone else be icing on the cake?) kiss your angelic little off-spring good-night, forgive your spouse for whatever transgressions, and sleep the sleep of someone whose troubles have been buried under a metric ton of ice-cream.