Parenting Stinks

She rested her head on the pillow next to mine and we gazed at each other, nose-to-nose.

She calls it “girl talk.”

I call it the most precious moment of the day.

We meander through casual topics, silly stories, hard questions, and the concerns of a tender-hearted five-year-old.


Tonight I do the talking.

<Deep breath>


“Peanut, we had a tough day today.  We both made some bad choices.”

<Flashback to her slamming doors, both of us raising voices, and general mother-daughter misery.>


“I shouldn’t have used my angry voice.  I wasn’t the kind of mommy I want to be today. And I’m sorry”

<Mental image of B walking in on one of our interchanges and giving me the “YOU need the time out” look.>


I hope we can both wake up with a better attitude and make better choices.  I’m looking forward to starting over with you tomorrow.”


She smiled and slowly nodded her head.

Then Peanut replied, “Mom?  I have to tell you something and I need you to listen.”


Me, hopeful, “Yes, sweetie?”


“Your breath stinks.”


<shocked silence>


“Goodnight, Peanut.”


“Goodnight, Mom.”


Breath mint, anyone?



Adding this entry to Morgan’s Motherhood Exposed linky.  Because Parenting stinks.



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