Hands in the Face

It's a fun little term my friend and I use to describe mommy overload on days when well, there's just too much going on.

What it looks like:

You see me standing before you and you're talking to me, while my kids are dancing around like banshees or heathens at some sacred ritual, shouting and laughing (or crying and whining), tugging at my arms, or waving some kind of toy around, usually one they don't own yet, and are trying to get me to buy for them.

What it sounds like:

A freight train, a trumpeting herd of elephants, a rock concert, complete with fireworks, and at least one tiny voice--it could be the person speaking to me, or it could just be my own inner self whimpering for help.

What it is:

It's a lot like shell shock--that condition soldiers get when they're in the thick of battle and suddenly it becomes too much. They're standing there, looking around at the carnage; there's probably ringing in their ears, yet they can't hear or at least take in any of the sights and sounds around them. That's Hands In The Face--only without the violence.

How do I deal with it? I shut down. I cancel things, like appointments and play dates. I snap for the kids to pack up and go, no matter where we are. Although sometimes I just stand there, slack jawed and stare for a few minutes, unable to do anything.

So if you see me--or any mom--standing there, slack jawed, not reprimanding her screaming kids, or if she's ignoring you, have a little compassion. We probably have hands in the face.