I had successfully made almost 4 years before properly traumatizing one of my children. That's a long time and plenty of opportunities passed.
So what finally did it you ask? Tuesday I was taking the garbage out to the garage, shut off the light, and closed the door. No second thought. The washer and dryer were going in the laundry room so it's really loud right by the garage. I came back in, put a new garbage bag in and Febreezed. Then, Aaron looks at me and asks, "Where's Jill?". I figured she was in the bathroom and didn't really look until I heard it.
What's it you ask? The scream heard 'round the subdivision. Jill was in the garage. I never saw her or heard her come in behind me. This shocked me because the child sounds like an elephant going through the house, she's SO loud. Poor girl was crying, screaming, and pounding on the door. When I opened the door and gave her a big hug she yelled at me, "It's dark and you closed the door and I knocked and I CAN'T SEE ANYWHERE!".
She calmed down and only ratted me out once, to Scott. So after I got her calmed down and called my Mom to share the trauma, we mothers have to bond over moments like these. My sister chimed in later and mentioned that this was similar to when she was locked in the bathroom at the Little League field, to which my Mom said was her fault and she survived, to which my sister said is the reason she freaks out when doors don't open on the first try. My sister also said I can't just bribe my daughter with "guilt" goldfish like those beyotch's did with candy bars at the Little League field. She also reminded me that when Jill is 40 she will probably remind me of this event.
I think we all have our trauma scars from childhood, something that causes a fear later in life. For me, I hate ducks, quite honestly any bird, but most especially ducks. Why you ask? Because the same sister who said "when she's 40 she will remind you of this" tried to feed me to ducks when I was a baby. Yup, I'm 28 and I'm reminding you. BAM!
Another traumatic experience? I was in junior high and at the mall that was being renovated. For some reason my Mom decided to walk on the tile/untiled area and subsequently fell. Did I mention I was in junior high at a mall that everyone at my school shopped at? Because of this I hate being embarrassed or having attention drawn on me in public. Yup, I'm 28 and I'm reminding you Mom.
Going along with the last one, I was helping Scott pick out paint colors for the living room, we weren't dating yet, just friends. He showed me a swatch and asked what I thought of the color. I didn't see him point and only saw that his thumb was on the color "fudge bar" and I said, "Oh, fudge bar? I like it." He replied, "No, this one. Fudge bar? Just because I'm a little heavy doesn't mean everything had to be about food!" The entire Home Depot paint section heard this. I wanted to die. Yup, I'm 28 and I'm reminding you Scott.
I think at the end of the day Jill will be alright. She hasn't mentioned it since, but I put an extra $20 in her therapy fund for good measure.
Did your parents traumatize you? Please share, we can start a support group or something.