Butting heads

I held off writing this post simply because I thought I needed to cool off a bit before committing this to the blog. Though I realized this story will always hurt me in so many ways, I just hope some day I'll be able to laugh about it.
I recently learned from a friend who is a MFT that anger begets anger. We're all under the misconception that if you allow yourself the big blow up or scream fest, that the release will make you feel better. Not true. In the case of anger, it just makes you more angry. So I experienced on Tuesday.
Tuesday I have both of the boys all day and I usually have plenty of playdates or park outings planned. Was it God who said 'Idle hands are the devils workshop'? No truer words have ever been spoken than in the home of a preschooler (aka Satan). Well, we were house bound Tuesday waiting for the FUCKING washing machine repairman to show up...late...did I mention 2 hours late?!? That is like an eternity when you are stuck at home with your kids.
We were having a great morning. I even told someone that I felt we were turning the corner in terms of Charlie's recent rash of bad behavior. We had just finished playing garage and fixed all of his trucks, they were good to go. I bent over to pick the baby up and Charlie came up in front of me and head butted me with all his might. Head hit head and it hurt. I had to put the baby down, saw stars and just cradled my head.
Charlie smiled at me, waiting to see what I was going to do. As I walked into the kitchen, I screamed, 'Mommy needs 2 minutes of time out to be alone.' I burst into tears, the physical pain was almost gone, but emotionally I was reeling - How could my child hurt me like that and not even care? How could he not have hurt himself? Did I not just play garage with this kid for almost 40 minutes? Did he not notice that I completely ignored his brother to focus on him 100%?
Charlie followed me into the kitchen, thinking it was a funny game. He laughed and I lost it - like one of those cops on Law & Order (pick one) when they finally catch the serial killer/rapist and conveniently arrest him in a dark, deserted alley. I grabbed his arm and took him into his room. Told him to stay there for 3 minutes, that I didn't want to play with him, he wasn't being nice to me, I was very upset, etc. I lost track of what I was saying, I was a blubbering mess. He started screaming from his room. Finally, a reaction. I wanted to lock him in there forever.
I opened the door after 2 minutes and let him come out. Little fucker was still smiling behind his tears. "You hurt Mommy. We do not head butt. I don't want to play with you right now so go read a book."
I guess I must be more interesting to him when I'm on the emotional edge. He followed me around smiling, asking, "Why you not talking? Why you not talking to me?" Umm, because you are evil.
I threw some toys across the room and screamed, "LEAVE ME ALONE. GET AWAY." I could feel the anger just building and Charlie was clearly enjoying the show. I realized he was absorbing every single action and word. Shit, this is not good. I managed to pull myself together, called the babysitter and begged her to come over. I went to the gym for a swim then to the yogurt shop got an extra large ice cream (this was not a situation that called for yogurt) with peanut butter cups. I felt better. Funny, it doesn't matter how self aware I become, I cannot get away from the emotional eating. It's a fact, ice cream makes you feel better.

I returned home and Charlie came running to me, smiling, "Mommy, I missed you."