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I am sitting in the bathroom.
There is a small human yelling at me.
Mommy.
Mommy.

The day has been an absolute “PALAVA”.

I need Jesus, Paul, John and Mary. Throw in the Holy Ghost, few aliens and everyone from the Fat Albert gang.

Why?
Why am I here?

… because today I chose to parent and not punish.

No lectures, no you cannot have this or that, no epic battles of wills. No. No. No.
I will not participate.

She knows what she has done wrong, she knows there is a sad face on the behavior chart and she knows I am upset to the point that words are scare.

So she beckons, she yells, more throwing, she has a one sided conversation with herself …

I feel like a mom that needs a hug. I wish my mother was alive. This is a grand mother’s shining moment… diffusing the yells of a naughty preschooler and the secret scowls of a 39 year old, pending divorce, frazzled, single mom.

Momma said there would be days like this…. but what do I do when she is a teenager… go to the pergola and knit a sweater?

Has she talked herself to sleep….
Clear the land mines.

I shall come out the loo now.
Thank you and good night.

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