Brat Attack- Reprise

Brat Attack- Reprise

image

BRAT
noun.
a child, especially an annoying, spoiled, or impolite child (usually used in contempt or irritation).

Today I had a brat attack. It is only second in its savagery to a terrorist attack.
It’s like a five-year old terrorist has taken over my emotions, behavior and mouth.
Then I blew up; all. over. my. husband.

Do you ever do that? No, I’m sure I’m the only one…..

My brat inspired tantrum, albeit short, was ugly.
I wanted to stomp my feet, throw myself on the floor and pull at my hair……but I was driving…..and talking on the phone. My five-year old annoying, impolite child, said stuff. Stupid stuff using a five-year old’s limited language.

When she inhabits me to that degree, there’s no reasoning with her. Have you ever tried to reason with a pissed off five-year old?

Have you ever said stupid stuff like that? No…..I’m sure you haven’t.

Anyway…
I’m inclined to blame it on the “energy”, or solar flares, but I think the sun’s been pretty quiet, so I suppose I have to take responsibility.

I have no excuse except frustration at a situation and my own bad behavior in handling it.

Do you do that? No? Hmmmmmmm…guess it’s just me…

My inner brat doesn’t rear her wild haired little head too often in my life. I do try to embrace her ( like a human straightjacket ) when she does and I’d never want her to go away for good.

She lets me know when I’ve exceeded my limit. When things have gone too far.

She is the barometer of how high my stress, shame or frustration level has gotten.

When she howls; I listen. If I resort to her terrorist tactics…there’s a problem. Either it’s something real and I’m too tired or cranky to deal.
Or, my perception has been hijacked by my ego, and I need to just get over myself.
Then other times; she’s just plain being a bitch.

Can you relate? No? Really??

I texted my husband a mea culpa as soon as I parked. Then I laughed at the absurdity of the attack.

He’s met my brat; she doesn’t scare him. Once, when they scuffled, he threatened to call my mother and rat her out.

Today’s visit was short-lived and I got the message.

Note to self: Don’t save important things until the last-minute and learn to accept help, otherwise it’s a set up for frustration. And don’t nosedive and dial.

The call was unnecessary and self indulgent…oh, that is sooooo her.

You ever nosedive and dial? Don’t lie. Tell me about your last brat attack!

Xox


signature

My version of life. My stories. Told in my own words.

What I know For Sure
Wanna be part of my Tribe? Subscribe!

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

You Can Also Find Me Here:
Let’s Get Social
A Picture Is Worth More Than A Thousand Words
Looking for A Particular Post?
Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers:

%d bloggers like this: