When It's Time for "The Talk"

There comes a point in every mother's life when it's time for the talk. The kids never want to hear it, and you never really think you'll have to "go there," but it happens. You heard it from your mom, she heard it from her mom, and so on. It usually goes something like this:

That's it. I quit. I resign. I give up. If you think you have it so bad here why don't you go live at Johnny's house?

The talk is usually preceded by one of these off-the-cuff comments from your childr(en):

• Mom, can you turn off the vacuum, I can't hear the TV.
• [with 5 minutes notice] Didn't I tell you I need brownies today (or my gym shirt washed, or a sheet of poster board, etc.)?
• Susie's mom never yells at her.
• I'm not eating that!

Last week I had the talk with my children. I'd been feeling like crap all day, but struggled to my feet to make them dinner, trying a new recipe in the hopes of breaking free from our Cinnamon Toast Crunch  hot dogs and mac & cheese chicken and broccoli routine. Both children took one look at what I was serving and announced "I'm not eating that!"

At this point, in my calmest mommy voice, I announced my resignation, told them they could make their own dinner, and stomped off to my bedroom and slammed the door. I crawled in bed and cried until my husband came home and made the mistake of asking what was wrong. I told him that I was terminating my (poorly negotiated) contract and stepping down from my position as mommy.

I am very mature.

Unfortunately, I am completely unable to stick with my resignations (this is not the first time I've handed in notice). Even while furious in bed that evening, I kept thinking, "How are they going to know there's rice in the microwave? It's going to dry out and have to be tossed." And after Rob wisely removed the children from the house before I could seriously consider eating my young, I actually went to the kitchen, fed myself the lousy meal with dried out rice, and then cleaned up the mess.

In addition to boycotting the role of chief cook and bottle washer, I've also been known to swear off cleaning and picking up after everyone, convinced there could be a dead body in the living room and everyone else would simply step around it. But alas, my staying power is no stronger there.

I know I'm not the first woman to retire/quit/resign from the role of mom, but I wonder if there's a better way to see it through, at least until it actually makes a difference in my family's behavior. I've learned that the positive results of my meltdowns generally have a staying power of less than 24-hours. If you've ever stepped down from your matriarchal position, please share what works for you. Your good advice could be just what all of womankind needs in order to not have a mommy-meltdown in vain.