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P-M-S This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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     For a while I thought my mom had PMS - psychoticmother syndrome. At the time, psychotic mother syndrome could be defined as aseries of Unnecessary Measures* taken by a mother after the shocking realizationthat her precious child would not grow up to be a billionaire and marry ahandsome movie star, but rather be a failure and live in a cave, eating Dolepineapple from a can.

PMS was a scary thing. She would stand up straightlike a threatened hyena, her eyes bulging, and her mouth open wide as she spitwords that went in one ear and flew out my other. Then there would be an awkwardsilence, and my legs would begin to feel weak as I thought about what wouldhappen if I fainted and hit my head on the side of the mirror. I imagined that mymother would rush to my side and cry that she wished her last words to me werenot so harsh. The silence would last a long time, and my eyes would begin tounglue themselves from the floor as I got up the nerve to look at this rabidwoman. She would then tell me to leave, pointing to my bedroom, and I wouldsilently retreat, wondering if I should dash for the front door and make adramatic exit as Mother begged me to stay in a voice full of regret.

Inever understood the message she was trying to get across because I knew thiswasn't the only time I'd messed up and that I was bound to mess up again. Iwanted to tell her to cut me some slack; I was only a kid and kids like me didall sorts of unpredictable, crazy things. Once in my room, I would punch thepillow a couple of times, pretending it was her, wishing that she would leave mealone and that I wouldn't mess up so much. Then I'd whip out my diary andscribble horrible things about this unruly, psychotic woman. And I'd promisemyself, cross my heart hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, never to overreactwith my kids the way she does with me.

When I look back, I realize thatlove was the only reason my mom took such "unnecessary measures." Itwas because she didn't want me to be a bum living in a cave somewhere eatingpineapples. She wanted the best for me, and I agree, I deserve the best. Ideserve my billion dollars and a handsome movie star, but it's all at the priceof enduring PMS.

*Unnecessary Measures: The act of making youstand in a corner facing the wall because of knocking a painting off the wallwhen throwing a book at your sister's face. The act of locking you in yourbedroom because of accidentally hitting your second-grade best friend because shestole your pencil. The act of not allowing you TV for a month because you statedthat your aunt looked fat in her wedding gown. The act of throwing a frenzied fitbecause you received a bad grade. The act of putting you under house arrestbecause you drove the car into the mailbox when you didn't even have a permit.The act of giving you a five-hour-long sex lecture because your sister saw youwith your first date.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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