The Tide Talking Stain

First, watch this.  Are you laughing?  In my life, the talking stain is usually Xanthe, although it also takes the form of barking dogs, a very loud baby, crazy kids, incessant ringtones and the voices in my head who constantly recite my to-do list.  The talking stain makes me unable to focus and liable to snap at any moment.  Our dog, Star, is very patient.  She lets kids pull on her ears, poke her, step on her, inspect her teeth, etc.  But once in awhile, she suddenly snarls and gives a kid a good nip.  Sadly, I'm the same way.  I want to be patient, I really do.  This morning, for example, Xanthe decided that she definitely had to learn how to write the number five, immediately.  Not after the kids left for school.  Now.  So, during the whole getting-out-the-door-for-school routine, there was this loud, grating undercurrent of "Mom!  I can't write a five!  Help me write a five!  I can't do it!  It's not working!  Which way does the line go?  I need more crayons!  Mom!  Mom!  Help me write a five!  Help me write a five!" 

I was extremely patient, attempting to muffle the "stain" with helpful hints (down the street, around the corner, oops I forgot my hat), and pleasantly helping Xanthe trace the number five with her magenta crayon at 30 second intervals, while moving the kids through their morning routine effortlessly, with a smile and an occasional hug.  Until I snapped.

"XANTHE, JUST PRACTICE WRITING THE NUMBER ONE!  I HAVE TO GET THE KIDS TO SCHOOL!!  CAN YOU DO THAT??"

I wonder if it wouldn't be better just to be mildly grumpy all the time, so my kids aren't surprised when I snap.  Just when they get used to the nice, patient mom with the soft, lilting voice, she goes over Niagara Falls in a barrel and Witch Mom takes her place with no warning, snarling, "I don't know what you're talking about!  Just let me finish this!"  It might make them feel safer if I were more predictable.  

"Mom, can you help me with my homework?"
(But in a nice voice) "Hell, no!  Do I look like I want to do a story problem right now?"

Let's take a vote.  Option One: I save up all my impatience for unpredictable outbursts, which enables me to be happy and loving most of the time.  Option Two:  I spread out my impatience evenly throughout the day, making me seem slightly less nurturing, but more predictable.  Note:  a third, seemingly viable option, Being a Better Person, has already been ruled out.  I tried it and it didn't work.  It just led straight to Option One. Darn!