Alternate Title: Confessions of an Imperfect Mother . . . Part 1 of many
The TV is honestly an awesome babysitter and at times my savior.
The other day at a restaurant, a waitress had to bring my wandering child to me while I paid the bill. *face palm*
Sometimes, I put her to bed with a bottle. I just do extra brushing on her teeth the next day. Ok, no, I don't.
I let her run wild in our little post office and tear the place apart as I tried to ship 3 packages. I figured it was easier to just pay for what she'd damaged than to spend all my energy frivolously trying to chase her and put things back on shelves. There was a moment when she walked up to me with someone else's keys. I ran out and chased a woman to her car, just to find out that they were not hers. I just endured the judgmental stairs. I don't even care anymore.
When I'm really frustrated at her and trying to get her to mind me, I grit my teeth at her. I hate that.
I always frowned upon other parents when their children yelled "no" at them all the time. I made it a goal to rarely use that word with my child to try and keep her from forming that habit. So, I now have a child that just yells "stop" at me. *sigh* Apparently, I've ruined this kid. I'll try again with the next one.
While at a street fair, we were standing in a driveway listening to some musicians. Exhausted by chasing after my child who had decided to be ornery that day, I was allowing her to pick up snack puffs that she had dropped on the dirty ground and eat them. Concerned onlookers decided to inform me of the appalling thing my child was doing. I told them she was improving her immune system and allowed them to stare at us with sour looks on their faces. Again, I just don't care.
To be continued . . . . .