Everything is Coming Up Mutha F#!@*! Roses

by Lisa Donovan

I swear this will be my last blog entry regarding the fact that my daughter remains smugly settled into her terrible two-ness.  But, I have to rant just one more time about it.  I mentioned yesterday that my son had fall break.  It was hard.  I started to speak louder and louder to them toward the end of our last day.  I had that wierd Steven Colbert look on my face - you know the wide-eyed one where he looks like he could go psycho-homicidal at any moment?  Yeah.  That one. 

I was laying it on my son pretty thick.  “You’re older!  Set an example!” - I was mad at him, not her.  I was reaming him for everything she did - I was blaming him for the lack of balance in our home yesterday..  How is that fair?  She was the one that was going around flipping over the dog’s water bowl and pulling her brother’s hair.  He was just trying to read a book.  He was just trying to build legos.  He screamed at her because she very premeditatively ripped the drawing he had been working on for an hour.  Yet, he’s the one that got sent to his room. 

God.  Can you smell the guilt on me this morning.  I have tried to wash it off, but it is sticking to me like a bad night of drinking brown liquor - I’ll be tasting it ALL damn day.  Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.  The most useless, yet somehow one of the most prevailing traits of motherhood.

I can remember my older brother getting laid into by my parents for every little thing that went wrong in our house.  Even if I did it - he got in trouble for not preventing me from doing it.  Somehow the eldest gets the baggage of “setting an example” - how lame is that?  They are kids too.  How did I fall into the trap of making him as responsible as an adult in our home?  Shame on me.

Nothing left to do now but change.  And sooth my guilt by feeding my son lots of cake and ice cream tonight.  Yes.  Ice cream makes everything better. 

And, as far as the adorable little hell raiser that my daughter has become - she’s in for a serious change.  I have made - god, I almost can’t say it - a time out corner.  It’s a bleak wooden chair sitting in the corner of the living room.  Two minute time ous for her.  She won’t like it but, it’s time.  And, there’s always ice cream to ease my guilt if she takes it too hard.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 8th, 2006 at 9:35 am and is filed under Parenting, Behavior Issues. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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