The Bad Parent Chronicles: Apropos of Two, Going-on-Three


[He's driving, yes, but we're still working on lines of communication.]

Monday and Tuesday were two of the worst school drop-offs we've had in over a year.  By Tuesday I was a little prepared, but on Monday when the Kid started clinging to my leg, I was caught so off-guard that I almost started crying myself.  (Bless his darling teacher who jumped in so I could slip away before making the situation worse!)

Wednesday I walked in ready for anything.  But the Kid calmly took his boots and hat off, and walked into his classroom without even turning around.

Sweet Husband timidly texted, "Drop-off today?"

I wrote back, "Walked in like a champ, barely even said goodbye.  I think he's trying to make me crazy."


He peed on the potty.  In this house, the established custom is that behavior earns a small treat.  But when he asked for a chocolate chip downstairs a few minutes later, my mind hadn't quite made the connection.

"No, buddy, we don't eat chocolate chips before dinner," I rattled off by rote with my back to him.

I turned to look.  His bottom lip trembled, as the sweetest tear gathered in the corner of his eye and then fell.

"But I peed on the potty," he quietly sobbed.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry--of course you did!  Mama's so, so sorry.  Here let's get you a chocolate chip."

I scooped him up as I reached for the bag in the freezer.

"You've just gotta help me out here with remembering sometimes, bub.  Sometimes mamas need some help."


The Kid:  Mama, I want you to lay in bed with me.

Me:  No, I'm just going to sit here on the floor and knit while you fall asleep.

The Kid:  But, it's too cold on the floor.  I want you to come be warm with me.

As I set my knitting aside and slipped under his blankets, I was well aware of how I had just been played.  But what would you have done?