Writer's Workshop: Time Out

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

Time out...two very powerful words. Or at least in our house they are. I have seen time outs being ignored, lambasted, idly threatened and laughed at in my interactions with other families, but at Casa W., the time out is king. Here, time outs can cause instant realignments of attitudes, momentary peacefulness or epic meltdowns...but they always seem to make their point. That point being, if you can't behave in a way deemed by Mommy to be socially acceptable, then you cannot be a part of our little family society. Well, for a few minutes at least.

From time to time, The Accountant and I will joke that if one or the other doesn't behave, then the offending party will get a time out. My question: Why the H-E-double-hockey-sticks have I not received one yet? Have I misbehaved? Yes! I have overshot my Target budget more times than I can count.  I have used my "loud voice" with the children because they were both talking to me at the same time before I had my morning cup of coffee. I have had a few too many glasses of wine and said something mildly offensive in the presence of The Accountant's boss and coworkers. Isn't that enough for a time out? Apparently not...

So, I sit here at the laptop, imagining a world where Mommy gets time outs too and I dream. I dream of sitting on the couch, with no toys stuck under my butt, staring out the window at the trees in our backyard. I dream of lying on my bed with the door shut, the ceiling fan spinning above me, hearing only the sound of my breathing. I dream of sitting in my car and listening to 1st Wave on the Sirius radio, reliving the glory that is 80's alternative music, without having to listen to the competing strains of Toy Story 2. I honestly dream of sitting on the toilet and focusing on the, ahem, business at hand, without having someone ask me where Barbie's shoes are or sticking their fingers under the door in a toddler game of peek-a-boo. For (almost) 40 minutes....boo-ya!

Once my time out is done...I promise to emerge a better Mommy. I promise to be a more fiscally conscious, calm-voice-using, responsibly drinking and talking member of our own little society. But I can't promise a thing when it comes to finding Barbie shoes.