Confession

I have to make a quick confession: sometimes I’m a really crappy mom. This declaration shouldn't come as that big of a surprise; I’m not perfect, and my mothering isn’t either.

Last Tuesday Avery brought a note home from school stating that Thursday was going to be a snow day—not the day off, but a snow-themed day, including playing outside. So, basically, the kids were to bring their snow gear to school. Well, I spaced it. Avery went to school with her coat, gloves, and hat, but I forgot about her snow boots. Because Avery didn’t have snow boots she wasn’t allowed to climb the snow hills. When I picked Avery up from school she was crying, and upset and telling me that she needs to wear her boots to school. Honestly, I felt terrible. Score one for mommy.

Ro seems to be on the verge of dropping her morning nap—except for today—the first morning nap in a week. So, on Thursday, while Avery was busy crying at school because she didn’t have her snow boots, I took the van to the car wash. Romey was along, watching a Baby Einstein video in back. The car wash started and Romey started freaking out. The noise, water, etcetera, scared her, and although I was trying to soothe her, I couldn’t help but laugh. And so I laughed, and she survived, and calmed down after we drove out of the carwash. I’m still snickering about it. So, score two for mommy, and mark this moment down in history—I felt bad for Avery, and didn’t feel bad for Romey. And, referring to not feeling bad for Romey, she’s started screaming and throwing little tantrums. Again, I’m laughing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—“Ro, you gotta up your game. Your tantrums are laughable!”