November 15, 2013

Taxicab Confessions

Isn't it refreshing when someone tells the truth about her parenting experiences? You can sit back, sip your coffee, and gloat over your own superior skills?

Well, sit back, sip your coffee, and gloat over your own superior skills. Welcome to more questionable illustrations, confessions, and something occasionally referred to as "Thursday afternoon":

Confession #1: Moments before this glorious opening scene, nearing the end of a long day and my short rope, I had a) taken away the privilege of dessert for two days, b) banned all TV time for a week, and then c) threatened to hang their dirty underwear on the mailbox the next time I found a pair on the floor. And here we were, about to go into public. It was a stupid rookie move.

Confession #2: I was wearing sweatpants. (Somewhat unrelated, but in the spirit of confession, I'll include it.)
Confession #3: I may have been momentarily amused by the irony of our errand - bratty kids protesting a trip to the pharmacy to fill my birth control prescription. Neither hell nor high water could have kept me away at this point.

Confession #4: Probably.

Confession #5: I had run out of all other ideas (obviously) (please refer to Confession #1), so I stooped low. Like slithering-on-the-floor low. Like fake-chin-trembling-and-an-escaped-sobbing-breath-to-invoke-an-empathetic-response low. Yep. I pretended to cry.

Confession #6: And then I resorted to dramatic, flashy sentiments.

Confession #7: I made my kids cry. Out of genuine sadness.

Confession #8: And then, amid my sniffled "My heart is so heavy" and my choked "I could have a job where I do things for people who pay me money and respect me, but I have chosen to be with you two, and you can't even show me enough love to take a silly little trip without fighting and complaining," I found that I was actually crying. Like for real. My heart was so heavy. I could have a job where I do things for people who pay me money and respect me. What was I doing with my life??

Confession #9: As I type this, Silas is looking over my arm, concerned about this cartoon mom. "Did her kids make her cry?" "What did her kids do??" (pausing for a moment) "HEY!...[laughing]...this is when we went to Walmart!"

Confession #10: I may have let them weep and apologize for a good five minutes because I felt so sorry for myself.

Confession #11: I kissed their soft cheeks with extra kisses and gave their monkey bodies extra squeezy hugs when we finally arrived. They stroked my hair and patted my back while apologizing all over again. I tucked away the highly effective Crying Parent Card to play again in the future, and then I made a beeline straight to the pharmacy counter and filled the heck out of that prescription.

Confession #12: They were so remorseful that I gave back all dessert and TV time. My dirty-underwear-on-the-mailbox threat still stands, however.

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