On a wing and a series of poorly executed decisions.

I have no idea what I’m doing. In a sea of confusion, this fact is the only clarity I have. In a den or poor decisions made in haste or poor decisions that were well thought out or poor decisions born from the best intentions, failure is all I have to cling to. I will fail tomorrow and the next day and every day after that. And for always and forever. Like a good neighbor, failure is there.

Lately, my good neighbor has been making more of a pronounced entrance; think Kramer.

I don’t know exactly when the shift happened. We were in a groove. Things were ok and then, all the good things melted. Like ice cream on a hot day or m&ms in a tightly gripped palm. The good things have turned messy and I left the wipes in the other diaper bag.

I told a friend today that I fear they can sense my chaos and that this chaos manifests in false abduction claims, running away and their failure to not only listen but to hear me that is so severe that I’m considering consulting a pediatric auditory specialist. Thankfully, my friend is a life coach and she says,

“It could be that or, it could be that sometimes, kids are just assholes. If you weren’t in chaos, they would still make chaos.” I’m paraphrasing. It was far more brilliant and used more better words and stuff.

AHA. Yes. Sometimes, kids are assholes.

And, sometimes, I’m an asshole.

And, I think we all just may have a case of the assholes real bad.

Sadly, knowing this doesn’t seem to make the 24 hour day seem less 480 hour-y and it does little to alleviate the cloud of Eeyore that follows our minivan like an incredibly loyal puppy.

I promise, I’m doing the counting my lucky stars thing. I’m doing the smelling the baby’s sleepy head thing. I’m doing the kissing and hugging and all the good things even though we’re coated in sticky, melted Rocky Road. Rocky road, indeed.

But, I’m also wondering, how long does a really entrenched case of asshole last? And, if it’s truly contagious, who transferred the first asshole germ? Can I stop the spread before my house is sucked into an abyss of asshole so great that not even a seasoned proctologist can save us?

Does this end with us surrounded by pizza boxes and scurvy? Is there still time before our case of asshole is terminal? Is the treatment boxed wine or, the far more intolerable, “waiting it out”.

Please, anything but that.

Until next week and hopefully greener pastures, this is Bad Parenting Moments (aka Chief Executive Asshole), over and out.


  1. Less 480 hour-y. Yes, that’s what I need. That, and a family-sized bottle of chewable asshole antibiotics. That came out wrong, but you know what I’m saying

    • Chewable would make it much easier to administer to the small children. Good thinking. There are so many reasons to love you, but, your scientific break-through on chewable asshole pills might just be near the middle of the list.

  2. There comes a time when you need to look someone in the eye, be that a person a husband, child, or parent, and say in your best Voice of Reason “You need to quit being a shit. And I mean Right Now. It is you. And you need to STOP.” I find this highly effective. If only due to the shock value. In that moment of hesitation, where before they blink but after your statement registers you must sweep in and take control. It’s the only fix I know for Assholeitis. Best wishes. Keep us posted.

  3. Our house has come down with a case as well. The highly empathetic toddler is reacting to daddy’s bad reaction to a new medication is reacting to my starting my frickin period… You have my sympathies and can share my wine.

    -Signed, the mom who roared at her two year old for stealing a junky plastic ring off of mama’s nightstand. But when mama says no, she means no!

  4. Christy Cruz says:

    We call it “assholeiosis”. It’s contagious as hell. The only, ONLY, cure we have found is pizza night. One rule, it must be a Friday night. Pizza, movies, video games. Usually the husband and I will eat in our room on TV trays in front of the TV. The kids will either scatter or watch a movie or play a video game. There is more scattering in the early stages of the cure. As people start to “normalize” it starts with children coming and asking for a hug (ages of said children is 13 {twins})
    The cure usually takes two full days to fully take effect.
    And yes, it sucks. And yes, sometimes one must tell “patient A” that they caused it.
    But that they are still loved.
    Hugs to you all!

  5. I only have two, plus I’m a moron, but I’ve found that a really entrenched case of kid assholeiness takes (take a deep breath) four months to go away. Swear to gawd. The trick seems to be either the return to school or the beginning of a long break. Because whatever sets off the assholeiosis perpetuates the condition until major change is made.

    So hope pizza cures it. If not, hope Thanksgiving will. If not, hope winter holiday break will.

    If not? Homeschool. I’m sure that’ll fix everything. 😉

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