Bad Parenting Moment 2,700,458

Otherwise known as:

The Little Boy Who Cried Wolf When This Time There Actually Might Be A Wolf And The Mother Who Didn't Believe Him


Liam, who I affectionately call Button Pusher, can also be a wee bit of a manipulator.

If he's being sent into a time out for say ....hitting his brother or calling his mother a fuckin', he will promptly burst into tears and cry "I miss Daddy!!!" This happens each and every time a time out occurs in our house. Suffice it to say, the first few times I was sucked in - oh honey. I miss him too. We'll call daddy as soon as your time out is over so you can talk to him.

After about the tenth time, I caught on. Turns out, I'm a bit dense and guilt will multiply that denseness by about a trillion. So now when the "I miss Daddy" phrase comes pouring from his mouth while he trudges to the dreaded four minutes of time alone (and p.s. Liam. When you're grown up, you'll be BEGGING for four minutes alone. Begging.), I look up and say "me too" and go back to whatever I'm doing.

'Cause in the words of Bush..."fool me once, shame on... shame on you. Fool me - you can't get fooled again."* or something like that.


So a few weeks ago when Liam said to me "My tummy hurts." I was all "Sure, honey. Now eat your dinner"

Because kids will lie and say their tummy hurts when they don't want to eat brocolli and if I had a dollar for every time one of my kids said their tummy was upset or hurt because they didn't want to eat something, I would be typing this while laying poolside at the Atlantis Resort and Rico Suave, my poolside attendant, fanning me with ostrich feathers.

And because at some point in my life, I convinced myself I'm smarter than my children (dumbass), I played the treat card and offered him a cookie. Suddenly his tummy was "Jesus has laid his hands upon your belly and healed you, it's a miracle" fine. And so we went on about our day, him playing and acting like his usual self and me forgetting about the tummy.

But the next day, it came up again. In a distracted sort of way, I asked "where does it hurt honey?"

"All over" he replied.

This time he wasn't eating. Hmmmm....I thought. Maybe he is telling the tru... And then he went off and running to play with his brother. Nyah. He's fine.

And it happened again the next day.

Insert ringing alarm bells and flashing lights here.

Which is how I found myself at the doctor's office at 8:00 a.m. this morning holding his hand and while he put on his bravest face and held back the tears as the doctor did an ultrasound on his tummy. And why I'll be collecting his poop and putting it in a jar later today.

So if you happen to be having a bad parenting day and feeling like you're the worst parent in the world....you're not.

I already beat you to it.

*That's an actual quote from Bush. Seriously. You can look it up.