Immature

I try to be a good mom.  I really do!  Although there are times when I look at my behavior and say to myself “Wow!  I’m suppose to be the mom, that was not the best way to handle that situation.”  Monday morning was one of those situations.

On our way out to the bus stop.  At 8:30 am I tell everybody (all 5 of them) to put on shoes, lunches in back packs, and wait for me on the porch while I round up the stragglers.  The bus comes at 8:43 am.  This should be plenty of time.  It normally is plenty of time.  I’ve only got 5 weeks of school left.  You would think I’ve got it figures out by now!

Not this day.  I forgot to pack the snack.  I quick grab the pretzels off the top of the fridge and put them in 2 baggies.  It was  the las t of the pretzels.  Then I HAVE to use the bathroom before we leave.  I just need like 90 seconds to go.  It actually takes me longer to wash my hands than it does to go.  (I know cause I have to sing Twinkle Twinkle while I wash my hands or the girls call me out on it, because I make them do it.)  I run into bathroom, and close the door.  Before I am even seated, I got Sultana (9 years old) pressing her mouth to the door crack whining because Sass got more pretzels than her.

“Okay, okay.  I’ll fix it give me one minute.” I say

“She already put her pretzels in her back pack and Ha-Ha’ed me.”

“One minute!  Thats all I NEED!”

“But Mom, It’s not fair.  She always gets more than me!”

“One minute!  I’ll give you some goldfish with your pretzels”

“It’s not fair.  She always takes the bigger snack.  You like her more!  I don’t think she should get any snack.  You should take her snack away!”

“If you don’t be quite right now, and let me go potty….(the gears are grinding,  I am not a fan of idol threats) I am not going to was my hands before I put the goldfish in with your pretzels”

Then I hear 4 out of the 5 kids laughing.  Oh they thought it was funny.  But not Sultana.  She told me I was disgusting and immature.  Not the first time she has told me this. (See post titled Road Rage).  I am worried she takes things too seriously.  Or MAYBE it is me.  I can admit to it!  I am immature…Sometimes.