Tantrums, melt-downs, freak-outs....

Before you read on, I want to say something: I have been thinking lately about how I don't write in my journal anymore. I don't enjoy writing, it hurts my hands, and I don't feel like I have enough time. I am so far behind, that the idea of writing, it just appalling to me. I would love to use my scrapbook as my journal, but I have similar issues there. I don't have time or space to do it. And again, I am so far behind that I fear that I will forget these things before I get a chance to scrapbook them. So, this blog is my only form of a journal. I feel like journals are so important. My mother kept a regular journal all her life and I am so grateful for that. Since she died before I could really know her, her journals are the only way for me to 'get inside her head'. I love them! But since it is not a talent of mine, I have decided this blog is my journal. One day, I am going to make one of those 'blog/photo books'. That way my kids and my grandkids will still have a 'journal' that I have kept. My point is, from now on, my posts will not only be about our family, and our kids, but it will also be a lot of my thoughts and feelings. Don't ever feel pressured to read it, it is mainly for me. But of course, I will never put anything on here that I do not want people to read. With that being said, lets get started:

By reading the title of this post, you are probably thinking this is about my "terrible two-year old". Well you are wrong. Yes it is a result of a total freak out that Lucas had (this was way beyond tantrum), but this post is about me. Tonight, Lucas freaked out. He was so tired (due to skipping his nap), and overwhelmed by all of the family members at our family dinner, and he had just had enough. I have no words to describe the way he acted except 'psycho'. Needless to say, I started thinking about why he acts that way (only sometimes), but where does he get it from? I realized....he gets it from ME!! Granted he is a two year old, so it is his age as well. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I still struggle with it! I have a few stories that will explain it:

First let me preface this, most of my 'freak-outs' were a result of my sister who is 3 years older than me. It is strange to say that since my sister has always been my best friend. We are three years about, and shared a room our entire lives. When one of us would come home from college, we still shared our room, clear until we got married (we had a double wedding). My sister always took care of me, she is the most motherly woman I know. But for some reason, I reacted to her in very disturbing ways. One time, she was babysitting me (I think I was about 9-10 years old). I was playing in my front yard with some friends, and she came to tell me it was time to come in. I don't remember being mad at her before this, so I have no explanation for the way I acted. But I snapped. I picked up a shovel that was sitting next to me, and began chasing her around the yard....and I caught up with her. I think she still has the scar on her ankle.

One Sunday, we were going to church, I was 12 years old. I was having a bad day (bad hair day, bad clothes day) and I was just in a bad mood. As we got to church my jumper/dress started to rip. So my sweet sister decided to help me in the bathroom. I was crying and upset, not with her though. But I yelled at her for something, and she called me stupid (or something equivalent to that) and started to walk away. I grabbed her arm and dug my nails into her skin, and said "Don't call me stupid" and she pulled her arm away, and my nails were so deep into her skin that I left four deep scratches all along her arm. After wards I looked at my nails, and sure enough, there were strings of skin under each of my nails. Again, she still has scars on her arm.

This one happened on too many occasions to count. My sister would make me mad over something, usually something small like she didn't clean her half of the room. But I would always get mad at her, and I would try to 'control' my anger. (I use the word "control" lightly) Instead of attacking her, I would attack the blinds in our room. I would grab handfuls of the blinds, and pull them, tear them, bend them, whatever I could do to them, I did. Eventually my parents discovered the 'white-trash' fix-up job we did (on several occasions) and we had to get new blinds, that I destroyed later in a similar situation.

There are many more situations like these, one that involves throwing wee-waffle toys at her face, leaving her with a very fat lip. Many that involve punching and kicking her.

There was one time when I think I was about 5-6 years old. This one is with a different sister, who wasn't so quick to forgive. She was helping me bathe, and accidentally got shampoo in my eyes. I had been fighting her in the bath most of the time, so there was water everywhere. I shoved her as hard as I could, and she fell back sliding her left hand under the door. The edge of the door cut her pretty bad, and yes, she still has the scar. She was pretty self-conscience about it (and I don't blame her) since her left hand would be the hand in all her bridal pictures.

I don't know what my problem was. And in fact, what my problem is! Last night, I was so hungry (like I always am being pregnant), and I couldn't find anything that sounded good. So I was just going to starve. Matt grabbed himself some fruit snacks, and I saw it and it sounds so good. So I asked him to get me one. Now this is one of the biggest problems in our marriage (I know a lame problem, but it is true). He gets frustrated with me, because he says I wait until he is standing up, and then I ask him for things. Like I just sit there, waiting for him to get up so I don't have to. So when I asked for the fruit snacks, he did his "I am kind of annoyed" laugh, and got me some. But to make a point to him, I threw the fruit snacks at his face. They landed on the floor and I didn't touch them, just to show him, I didn't want them anymore. I think Lucas picked up the fruit snacks after he woke up.

Now I feel like I have matured, and calmed down since those really wild days. Now when I am frustrated, I either keep it in, or I talk to Matt about it until we figure it out. But what the heck was I thinking back then?! I really have no idea of where to begin to figure it out. I was just an angry child I guess. And I have to say, my sister is a sweetheart. Right after I would attack, I would realize what I had done, and would just start bawling. Emily would almost always forget her pain, and would come comfort me!! And she would help me to "cover up" the evidence so my parents wouldn't find out. I don't know why she continued to be not only my sister, but my best friend.

Well, please do not judge me by this post, like I said, most of these stories were a long time ago. I am MUCH more mellow and calm now. :)