Over the past couple of years, I have been suffering a revelation. Yes, that’s right, suffering. Not all revelations are wonderful experiences, you know. My revelation has been, in short, the fact that I am not nearly as awesome as I always thought I was. When once I thought of myself as quite a catch, I now know that I am merely pond scum in the Great Ocean of Life.
I did it. I actually did it. I have sunk into the slimy pool of terrible mothers. I told my son to “shut up.” In a house where those words are not allowed, though I have many times muttered it in distant rooms where my whining, screaming, tattling children couldn’t hear me, I said it to my 4 year old son’s face. And I yelled it too. I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Put this wretched woman in jail!” but I’m sure most of you are thinking, “Seriously? It took you 4 years to say it?” Either way, let me give a little background here, not that there is any excuse for it, but just so you know I didn’t just decide to dump my good parenting down the toilet on a whim.