My Top 10 Parenting Fails
It's Been A While
Since I have written about my antics with my now almost five year old son. So I figured what better time to update you on the multitude of fail that I have officially crested in the last six months of my life with my son.
A Little Back story:
I've written quite a few hubs in regards to my parenting with my child, and even how to get even sometimes. Honestly, most are meant to be funny--since that is my outlook on parenting for the most part. 95% hilarity 5% serious mean face. To tell you the truth, it has worked amazingly for me, though it hasn't been without it's bumpy and long driven roads.
It wasn't until last night's incident that I figured why not add to it. What makes it worse is that I pretty much fail as a woman, since I am virtually incapable of baking. I say this because you weren't on the unlucky end of both "homemade" birthday cakes. What makes it even worse is I followed the directions/recipes for each one, and each was wept for that day.
So here we are. My top ten parenting fails in the last 6 months.
Took my son to see a movie that opened earlier this summer thinking that it would be "oh so amazing" for him, especially more so for me. Usually he is incredibly amazing in any movie I take him to, unlike if we were to go shopping. Shopping=ninja kick to the face. Anyway, there we were, popcorn and drinks in hand waiting for the opening scene. I should have known better immediately as he sat there grasping his paper material built cup. Tense with anxiety I couldn't take it and decided to scare him before the scene had the chance to. To my dismay my son punched me in my face, threw his cup at me, and proceeded to mock me while the entire theater was in tears. I mustered up all my strength sat in my chair with a napkin to my nose and sulked at my failure.
Nothing says awesome like a day at the park. Unless your me, then awesome+you=trip to hospital. So me and my demon spawn decide to go to Mt. Trash more, which is a ginormous park about 10 minutes from where I live. So we get there right, and my son hauls balls over to the playground. I give chase, catching up to him quickly. He's screaming, I'm worried he'll hurt himself, he's consoling me that he will be fine. Later he decides he wants to play what he likes to call "the monster game". In actuality it's just your run of the mill tag. I was game and thus the chasing and screaming ensued. I swear it wasn't even six minutes into the running when my son just decides to stop running and I pretty much ended up ninja dive bombing over him landing face first in mud. My son's response, "Mommy you should really watch where your going, you could have made yourself ugly." He then continued to run a muck without even skipping a beat to make sure I was okay.
I hold video games pretty highly in my house. To me they teach all the basic skills needed for school from hand and eye coordination to basic problem solving skills. So yes, my four year old will rampage on video games, and I let him be--unless of course he gets frustrated then super gamer mommy to the rescue. That was at least until he learned to play Halo. So there we were, gaming it out hardcore playing Halo online. My son of course would get his lucky kills in where he fit in, however I was rampaging protecting him because he got me easy kills. Until he decided that I was "helping too much" and proceeded to kill me at every turn while screaming at me. Keep in mind we are on Xbox live and the entire game can hear us arguing. So long story short, no one killed anyone anymore and instead just watched my son kill me continuously and scream at me for "helping him too much". He ended up getting a lot of friend requests that day.
I made the mistake of teaching my son to use photography gear. Well I'm a photographer, so I figured it would be a good way to see if he liked art--or even photography for that matter. Man did it backfire fiercely. I woke up in the middle of the night one night to find my son creepily hovering over me and my husband. I felt like I was in some kid slasher flick and was about to die. All of a sudden he screamed, "CHEESE" and this huge flash of light engulfed my eyeballs. This whole experience was then proceeded by, "Mommy, you're supposed to smile when I say cheese not make an ugly face." I kicked him off my bed with extreme prejudice and yelled at him to get back to bed. I woke up again about an hour later to him photographing my toes, again yelled at him to go back to sleep. Again about an hour later to him photographing my husbands open mouth, proceeded by some more yelling. Then finally after the fourth incident I took him camera from him and forced him to go back to sleep. What did I wake up to? Well I'll tell you. I woke up to my child dumping a cup of freezing cold water on me because I took his camera away from him. Let's just say I chased him around the house for about an hour while my husband just sat on the couch laughing hysterically.
I taught my son to use scissors. At the time I thought it was a great idea. Four shower curtains, locks of hair, locks of his hair, locks of my husbands hair, locks of dog hair (both dogs), cords, paintbrushes, toys, blankets, nail polish brushes, plastic bags, and an emergency room trip later I realized it was a bad idea. Parents, don't teach Toddlers to use scissors---it will be the death of your precious belongings.
I taught my son to use oil based paint, since on occasion I paint and he asked if he could too. Again, at the time I thought it was an amazing idea. Two couch cushions later, repainting of walls, shaving of dogs, shaving of him, bathtub scrubbing, and blanket replacing I realize it was probably the most stupid idea I've had so far.
I decided that my son needs to learn responsibilities and earn an allowance to teach the importance of both. I bit off more than I could handle because my house was a mockery of World War II all over again. My son thought it would be the most amazing idea to make messes just to clean them up and get a quarter for every completed task. Let's just say I had to go to the bank a few times, and now my son has a bank account with close to $200 in it because he raped the system I created. The bank tellers still laugh at me when he goes to deposit his allowance. All though he now no longer rapes me, he just asked for an increase so he can buy more candy.
What I'm about to tell you, most people would call neglect--however if you read the last fail, it says my child's intelligence level. Even though I fail as a woman in the baking arena, I can fry my happy little heart arteries out. So I decided to show my son how to do so with very stringent guidelines--like he is NOT to do this without mommy or daddy with him. He acknowledged so I thought I was in the clear of accidents. Yeah not so much, I think I was subconsciously lying to myself. I was in the kitchen with him the entire time this happened. I was on the adjacent counter top cutting up artichokes to deep fry like pickles. My son asked if he could put the potatoes in the fryer and I agreed after showing him how to do so, and explaining to not touch the grease for ANY reason. What could possibly go wrong. Well I'll tell you, he melted my oven mitts. You're probably thinking how in the world....well here's how it happened. As I'm gathering up the cut artichokes to put into the fryer, my son says that the potatoes are done. I told him okay and wait a little bit, I'll take them out. Apparently patience is a virtue that is learned over time--and is non-existent in children. Next thing I know my son is saying "uh oh". I look over to a melted oven mitt with potatoes stuck to it. Imagine my face when I learned you can melt an oven mitt. My son just smiled the biggest grin got down from the stool and walked calmly to his room. I just stood there in awe at the mitt.
We've all been there. Trying to teach our children the difference between right and wrong, especially with lying. Well my son pretty much called me out on my hypocrisy when I was talking to my husband. I went somewhere to get my husband a gift with my son in tote. I come home surprised that my husband is home early and just gradually walk in leaving the gift in the truck. As soon as I step through the door I get bombarded with questions. I'm assuming because I didn't answer my phone the nineteen bajillion times he called. So I told him a lie. Guess what my amazing child did. "Mommy is what you're doing right or wrong?" I stopped dead in my tracks confused and I responded to him as such. "Daddy, mommy's lying. We went to the store where they have tons of TV's and we bought you one." My husband of course just started laughing, whereas I just smashed my head into the wall. So much for surprises huh.
Well we've made it. My number one parenting fail within the last six months. My son has a loose tooth and he is so excited about it--mommy not so much, but he is thrilled about it. For some reason getting a tooth pulled out or even a wiggly loose one sends my stomach insides out of my mouth. I have asked, but I guess it's some sort of texture/sound thing, I'm not sure though. Well my son thought it would be the most amazing thing ever to come running to me wiggling his bottom tooth. Yes he knows it bothers me because he has seen me throw up over another kids loose tooth. He's mumbling, "look mommy look." Before I even got the chance to get away I threw up all over myself and started crying like a big baby. My son just stopped, smiled, and laughed at me. His words, "mommy you shouldn't have told me you don't like teeth mommy. I got you good huh?" Then he turned his back walked off and ran me a shower. I felt so ashamed that I just tucked my head and got in, my son still giggling.
So this has been my top 10 parenting fails. Although you may not think the last one to be a fail per say, it still very much is--because I threw up on myself and then cried. I still am ashamed this happened, and as for my son, he made sure to remind me this morning.
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