The prompt I chose for this week’s Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop was prompt #1) Write about a time you shoved someone.
I am not much of a shover. In fact I am not really a hands on physically violent person. I have always been one of those types of people that I avoided altercations at all costs. Even arguments make me nervous. I don’t like yelling or screaming. When people start arguing and yelling I can feel myself start shaking on the inside. When people start pushing or shoving or throwing fists? I’m outta there!
Unfortunately, I grew up in a very loud and chaotic household (maybe that’s why I don’t like it) and my parents definitely believed in corporal punishment. More so my mother than my father, although my father was quite the character. Many times I remember hearing about his
altercations with people. Also unfortunately that carried over to my child rearing in the forms of spankings. I always heard spare the rods and spoil the child. I did not “beat” my children but their little bottoms were spanked on occasion. I can only really remember taking a belt to my children’s bottoms a couple of times and it was warranted (shoving a sibling down the stairs or pointing a knife at them in anger in my opinion is cause enough).
One thing I never did was slap my children, especially across the face. When I was a teenager it happened to be my mother’s favorite and most used form of behavior modification and I loathed it. It pissed me off more than it hurt me and I told myself I wouldn’t humiliate my children in that manner. I also didn’t push or shove them around. There was really no reason for it. That is until one day when my oldest was a teenager.
Those teenage years took a huge toll on my patience and I really tried to use other forms of punishment without resorting to putting my hands on my teenagers. I think the worst part was that they would make me so angry sometimes that I was afraid if I did put my hands on them I might have seriously hurt them!
One day when my oldest was I think in 8th grade she was being a royal pain in the butt. She was surly and uncooperative and for lack of a better term… she was being a little “b”. Her sisters were at basketball practice with their father. I’m thinking she had practice too so we were supposed to do a trade off. I drop her off and pick the other two up. We were running late to pick up her sisters from their dad and she was doing everything in the world to “push my buttons”. I was exasperated and tired and already at my wits end.
I asked her to hurry up. We were standing at the bottom of the stairs by the front door and she had just finished sulking down the stairs…. One. Step. At. A.Time. like we had nowhere else to be and she had a very nasty attitude. I had asked her to pick up something for me and she sighed very loudly and slammed down her purse on the floor. I looked up at her and she drew back her fist like she thought she was big enough to take me down. She just as quickly dropped it but not quickly enough because I saw what she did.
It was like I stepped outside my body and someone else took over. I was so angry that this little 8th grader thought she was big enough to draw back
on me that I grabbed her by both shoulders and shoved her back against the wall….HARD….probably a little too hard but I was by now beyond angry. I think I may have said something to the effect that if she thought she was woman enough to draw back on me she better follow through and she better make it a good one because it would be the last punch she ever threw. I think I then probably cursed which was something I rarely did and told her to get her behind in the car as far away from me as possible if she knew what was good for her.
I then drove to where my husband was and told him he better take HIS daughter before I killed her and that I needed to go somewhere and cool off. He asked if I wanted to take the other two kids and I think my answer was probably not just no but HELL NO. He asked where I was going and I told him I didn’t know. He asked when I was coming home and I told him I didn’t know. He asked IF I was coming home and I said probably…. Maybe….Eventually….
I think I drove to a nearby state park and parked my car where I could see the water (water always calms me down) and I could hear it lapping on the shore through the open car window. I sat there in my car and cried….. for hours. I don’t know if I was more upset at the fact that my formerly sweet little daughter had actually raised her hand at me or if I was more disappointed in the fact that I lost it and shoved her…realizing how close I
had come to possibly actually hurting her out of anger. I’m I’m not sure exactly how long I sat there but I do know it was dark when I got home and my face was red and my eyes were puffy and almost swollen shut and I was spent. I think I went straight to bed.
I do know that she never ever drew back on me again. I felt bad for shoving her but I felt glad that at least I didn’t hurt her because at that moment I really think I could have. It takes a lot to push me to that point and I try to maintain my composure and not “lose it”. That night I think I lost it. Thankfully no one was hurt and I think she probably gained a little more respect for me if not fear of me. I just know she didn’t try it again. And she eventually did love me again!