Mommy Rage

One thing no one tells you about being a parent is that suddenly your free will to express anger is totally thrown out the window. It's only logical that you wouldn't want to expose your baby to yelling, swearing, or frustration; but, when a good loud f-bomb is no longer an option for helping relieve stress, you start to build up a backlog of anger that just needs to come out in some form. It's not productive to take it out on your spouse, and aggressive stroller pushing is a bit of a social taboo - so what is my outlet for this pent up emotion? Road rage.

I'm not speaking of the outlaw road rage we see on Cops. I'm talking about the good old, scream your head off in the car where no one can hear you, and if you spit wildly only the windshield will suffer, road craziness. Of course, this road rage can only happen when you actually steal a moment to yourself without baby in tow; but, when you do get those few minutes, and you're lucky enough to have some jackass cut you off on a rotary, it's heaven.


My sister and I went to see Marley and Me this past weekend (cried out friggin' eyes out). On the way out of the movie theatre parking lot, I was blessed enough to have a shiny Mercedes with tinted windows decide he was going to bypass the entire lane of backed up cars by driving up the oncoming traffic lane. As I spotted him in my rear view mirror, adrenaline bubbled up inside me like century old lava, and my hands gripped the steering wheel so hard I think I cracked my knuckles. As I leaned on my horn, words tore out of my mouth like a redneck truck driver, "You f-ing Newton driver! Who the hell do you think you are! Learn how to f-ing drive you f-ing yuppy!". I proceeded to chase the guy down the street, honking my horn the entire time. Meanwhile, my sister sat aghast in the passenger seat, jaw dropping to her seat belt.

Now I don't condone road rage. I think it's an awful waste of time, and a dangerous habit; but I think a little road nuttiness is allowable for a new stay at home Mom who has smiled for 5 months straight and has, with only the will of some magnificent force, stopped herself from swearing over her baby as she spills formula or spreads poop all over the changing table.

So, if you see me banging on the steering wheel and yelling obscenities to the sunroof, just cut me some slack. I may look crazy, but it's all for the benefit of my little Livi.