I am the meanest mother on the planet….

and I have learned to embrace it.

I have had many title over my life time; some that I have earned and some were graciously bestowed upon me by others. There is one title that I wear like a tiara, maybe not a first.

Today, I came home after an incredibly long, tough, and busy day at the office; know that I still had more work to do and chores. Immediately on my arrival, Genevieve asked if we could go to Barnes & Noble. I gave her a “maybe” depending on how quick I could finish my chores. So the next two hours I spent cleaning, prepping dinner, doing laundry, walking the dogs, and running a few errands (work/life balance? HA). I come home and began to fold laundry on my bed, Genevieve appears in the doorway. She asks to go to the bookstore, I turn and just stare at her. For the last two hours, she worked on creating a large crater on our couch and couldn’t be bothered to help me out. So I replied “No”.

Then her head spun 360 degrees and I spontaneously combusted… ok, not really but that would have been a more pleasant interaction. For the next ten minutes, as I folded laundry, I listened to her bellow how life is so unfair and I am so mean. At the end I pointed out through this all she still couldn’t bother herself to help me. She stomped away, declaring that I am the meanest mom that ever lived and she can’t understand why God would punish her with such a mean mom. I mean, seriously, how do you control your laughter.

My 5’6 tall child, laid sprawled face first on my floor, sobbing about how horrible her life. This was the moment when I understood that I am doing something right. I get now why my mother enjoyed those few fleeting moments when my entitled life became a little uncomfortable.


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