I've got a Temper, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Here's some pictures from chris' Birthday Bash we had last weekend. (thanks for the pics, Joel!) It was lots of fun and it was the first time we had a group of peeps over since we moved into the new house. We all hung out on the porch and ate and talked and had smokey-treats. It was glorious. Ezra ran around and had a grand ol' time. Even though it was daddy's b-day, he got an alligator/crocodile/monster/dinosaur(?) suit from Chase and Liv. Woo woo! Now I don't have to stress about the Halloween costume madness. I think he makes a cute alligator/crocodile/monster/dinosaur, don't you?






On an entirely different subject, lets talk about this temper of mine.

We listed a Dell laptop computer on eBay today that Chris' parents had recently given him. We are selling it because we're trying to pool money to get a Macintosh Laptop for him instead. eBay was acting funny when I was trying to list the thing, and none of the buttons were working right on their webpage. I was getting SO frustrated and I kept muttering how I HATED this new eBay listing page... "Oh it's HORRIBLE... I'm clicking the stupid button and nothing is happening! Who designed this thing, apes with toes for fingers?" and so on and so forth... spewing my hate onto the screen like liquid hot magma. (And perhaps a gleek or two.)

Now, keep in mind that Chris is "that gentle hearted kind of guy" who recently confessed to me that he'd only hit TWO objects in his entire life out of pure frustration. I, on the other hand, have usually hit two things out of frustration BEFORE NOON on a daily basis. (Short temper + Instant Rage + Ridiculous behavior = ME.)

I guess I was clicking the mouse really hard and rapidly because later, at dinner, Chris asked if I had ever been so frustrated to where I had actually hit the computer before.

"No, of course not honey..." I replied innocently. "...The worst I ever do is throw my cell phone."

"Oh, okay.", he replied and made some reference to my hyperactive clicking finger that startled him with its speed and intensity earlier that evening. "I was just wondering."

I left out the fact that my cell phone may or may not have been aimed in the vicinity of the computer once or twice before and that prior to the era of cellphones, video game controllers and computer joysticks would typically bare the brunt of my adolescent wrath. I remember getting SO MAD at this Mickey Mouse's Haunted House game I had on Sega Genisis that I would keep a pillow nearby when I played it so I could bite it and scream into it to try and direct my rage into the pillow and away from the video game console itself.

I don't know why I tortured myself with games like that. I hated playing them. But I hated LOSING even more. It was a vicious cycle that only resolved itself when new and exciting things came along- things like holding hands with boys and keeping a running tab of "HUGS RECEIVED FROM BOYFRIEND" in my little pink diary. Each post started out: Dear Matilda, H3!!!! or Dear Matilda, H4!!!! My diary always had a name because then it felt like I was telling my secrets to a real friend. (I wasn't the most popular kid in Middle School.) And, of course, the H3 stood for: Hugs=3. (Again, NOT A LOT OF HUMAN FRIENDS at that time. More friends of the stuffed animal and imaginary friend persuasion than actual human ones...)

I had this dresser in my room all growing up with little flower knobs on it, and on the bottom drawer, near the back, I kept a scratch tally of how many times my Middle School boyfriend had hugged me. The scratch tally stayed on that bottom drawer for years and years and years until just recently when Chris and I decided to paint all of our dressers white. You know, so that they would all be the same color instead of a lovely array of light brown, dark brown, lighter brown, and a medium brown with skateboarding stickers plastered all over them. Nothing says GROWN-UP like a reflective "Skate or Die" sticker on your undies drawer...

Sand that 'Hug Tally!'

When we painted over the scratch tally, I couldn't help but feel a tug of sadness as I said goodbye to another childhood memento. Buried under white paint. Plastered over by another grown-up decision. No more 'hug tallies' or stuffed animal concerts. No more secrets to 'Matilda' or playing with GI Joes. (Dibs on Ninja!)

But then I watch my son talking to the dinosaurs he's carefully set up on the piano bench, and I realize that those days of childlike wonder and discovery aren't over, they are just beginning.

*collective "awwww"*

Wait! Weren't we talking about my temper? Where'd all this mushy-mush come from?

Anywho, yeah, I've got a temper and I'm not afraid to use it. Do any of you have quick tempers? Is it just me? What do you do with them? Mine is quite unruly and needs a time-out. Suggestions?