More excellent parenting feedback today.
At the beach, Whit was unhappy when I kept “redirecting” him from knocking down Grace’s sandcastles. Finally, in exasperation, he yelled at the top of his lungs: “You are a BAD MUMMY!” I know, I know, he was just using his power to manipulate and twisting the knife that he knows how to expertly insert for maximum pain. Still, it worked: I burst into tears in front of the assembled masses (thankfully not a huge crowd) on Silvershell Beach.
Then at dinner I told Grace we were going to buy ice cream to have at home vs. go to the Oxford Creamery for cones (since we needed a ton of time at home to do another lice-comb session). She burst into tears and said, trembling lips and brimming eyes and all, “You have broken my heart, Mummy.” She has, perhaps, inherited my gift for melodrama; still, it didn’t make me feel too hot after what has felt like a long and difficult day.
Yes. I know. I’ve failed at something else. Thank you all.