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The crash that reverberates from beyond the bathroom door indicates a flagrant disregard of some rule or another.

“HOLY cow!  What was that??  Are you okay?”


“WHAT was that??”

“i was…hanging…on something. and it fell.”

“WHAT were you hanging on???”

[Door opens]


Towel bar in hand.  Left towel bar holder in hand.  Screws – which had been installed without anchors, thank you previous owners – ripped out of drywall.

“You were HANGING on the TOWEL BAR?!?”


“I. You. I can’t believe this.  Put that down.  I’m not dealing with this right now.  You can tell Dad when you get home and ask him to fix it.”

Retreat to den.  Seethe.  Congratulate yourself for not exploding.  Feel slight guilt over pushing the repair off on Dad when you’re perfectly capable of fixing it in five minutes.

Hear sniffles.  Sniffles turn to sobs.

Enter child, head hanging, sobs at maximum, words incoherent.

“I can’t understand you.”

“I. *sob* Don’t. *gasp* Deserve. *sob* To have. *gasp* ANY. *sob* Fun. *Choke* Today.”

“No fun?”

“No. *sob* I tried to fix it. *gasp* But it won’t STAY! *wheeze*”

At this point, hyperventilation seems imminent.

“Come here, sweetie.”

Hug.  Breathe.  Repeat.  Again.

“Would you like me to help you fix it?”

“yes.  please.”

“Okay, then, put some shoes on and come out to the garage with me.”

Lessons learned by him:

~ The importance of drywall anchors and how they work.

~ Righty tighty, lefty loosy.

~ How towel bars are assembled.

~ Why we have rules against treating the household fixtures like a jungle gym.

Lessons learned by me:

~ We have some teeny-tiny hex wrenches.

~ Bathroom lighting is even worse for photography than the rest of the house.

~ My baby’s growing up and learning unprompted responsibility.

~ I just might be doing something right in this whole parenting thing.

Today at lunch, Nicky said, “Mom, I think you should be on Food Network.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re the greatest chef ever.”  (Insert cute grin.)

Awww.  Boy, they know how to melt our hearts, don’t they?

What culinary masterpiece inspired this sentiment?  Leftovers from Thursday night’s Grand Dining Experience.  It’s a toughie…think you can handle it?

Mix a box of Stove Top according to package directions in the bottom of an 8×8 glass baking dish.  Add a pressed clove of fresh garlic.  Stir.  Lay chicken breasts on top.  Bake at 400 degrees F for 30 min.

Like I said, a toughie, and I’m sure a stand-by of millions of moms.  (Okay, so maybe the fresh garlic is the key?  It’s the “secret” ingredient to an awful lot of my dishes.  Me likey the garlic.)

Still, if this is all it takes to be considered the greatest, I’m thrilled.  If the way to my boys’ hearts is through their stomachs, I guess the way to mine is through appreciation of what I put there.

The blogosphere abounds with self-proclaimed “bad mommy moments,” where mothers put their ‘doh!’ experiences out there for the world to read.  Perhaps it’s just to read the comments that say, “BTDT, you’re not the only one!”  In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s why there are so many…

Anyway, now it’s my turn to post my own moment.  The boys had their fun run fundraiser today.  I had a dentist appointment during Kalen’s time on the track, so Jason went and cheered him on.  I was planning to watch when it was Nicky’s turn.



Somehow, I got 3:00 in my head at the time for his run.  School gets out at 2:45, so you can see where this might be an issue.  I have been catching myself in this mistake all week, but, very unfortunately, I didn’t catch myself today.  At 1:45, Jason asked, “Weren’t you going to go to Nicky’s run?”

“Yeah, it’s at three…oh crap!  It was at 1:30!”  I was in the middle of a deadline project, so my wonderful husband (also a wonderful father) ran out, and I remembered to hand him the camera.  He arrived in time to run with Nicky in the final “victory lap.”


Sigh.  Bad mommy moment, but it turned into a good daddy moment, so not really all that bad in the long run, eh?

My boys

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