A New Low in Mothering

Today I left the Infantile Delinquent (4 years old) home alone.

On purpose.

I had one of the worst mornings on record.  There was weeping, there was wailing, there was gnashing of teeth.  And that was just me, you should have heard the kids.  So when the Princess called from school asking me to bring her some packet of worksheets that she left on the desk in her room I was inclined to say no, making sure she has all her stuff is her responsibility after all, but the fact of the matter is that her teacher doesn’t really like her (which is not necessarily where my problem lies, I get that teachers just like everyone else are going to have kids that they like and those that they just don’t, for whatever reason, I’m willing to move beyond that) so she tends not to give the Princess the benefit of the doubt, or much kindness or… and we’re so close to the end of the year that I decided to just take it to her.

I got the Baby dressed (he screamed and cried through the entire process but I got it done).  And then I asked the InfaDel to get dressed.  He said, “no.”  Fine, it’s not like he would be getting out of the car anyway, he can go in his PJs.  I asked him to just go get in the car.  He said “no.” I explained to him that we needed to take some papers to the Princess and that it would just take a minute.  He said “I’m not going.”  So I said, “Fine.”

I loaded the Baby into the car (more screaming and crying) expecting the InfaDel to change his mind and come out.  I turned on the car.  Nothing.  I pulled down the driveway keeping a close eye on the house, surely he was going come tearing out of the house wailing because his mother, the giver of life and comfort, his primary protector, was leaving him home alone.  Nothing.  So I drove away.  It was going to be a quick trip, I’d only be gone about 5 minutes and surely when I got home he’d be scared and crying, but ultimately unhurt, and it would be a good lesson for him, he’d never fight me when I said we needed to go somewhere again (or at least he wouldn’t fight so hard).

I got to the school, ran the papers in (the baby cried because he wanted to come in with me), ran back out, drove home and rushed inside to find the InfaDel sitting at the computer desk playing a Sponge Bob game on nick.com.

Lesson learned.

PS.  In case you hadn’t figured it out, we lived through our food storage experiment just fine.  I made a few loaves of bread and I missed fresh veggies but otherwise I have nothing to report.


7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Annette
    May 24, 2010 @ 16:53:17

    Nothing like learning that your kids don’t care as much as you thought they did.

    My low this week: Having my 7-yr-old announce to a group of about 20 neighbors that I never spend time with her anymore.

  2. Flipflopmama
    May 24, 2010 @ 22:23:46

    I hate it when kids outsmart us.

  3. bythelbs
    May 25, 2010 @ 09:27:01

    Yeah, that sounds about right.

  4. Susan M
    May 25, 2010 @ 15:05:11

    I think my low in mothering was when a stranger knocked on the door with my 2 yo in her arms, asking if he was mine. She’d found him out near the street, where the speed limit was 50mph.

  5. madhousewife
    May 25, 2010 @ 15:14:21

    Hmmm. This isn’t how it would go down at my house. I mean, it would go down exactly as you said, right up until the part where you come home and the concerned neighbor(s) and/or police AREN’T on your doorstep. But I’m happy for you, all the same.

  6. LisAway
    May 26, 2010 @ 01:33:59

    Nothing like dealing with a twisting screaming Baby to make you care less about the rebellion of your four year old, eh? Thank goodness for Spongebob. (which I have NEVER even seen!)

  7. Goldilocks
    Jun 12, 2010 @ 10:42:05

    really mom really!

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