Why is it I'm having such trouble keeping up with blogging lately? Have I finally run out of things to ramble about, endlessly...? I'm sure that can't be the case.
So, today I'm going to ramble about the hardships of being a mother. Sometimes you feel like you're coasting along great (those times are rare indeed) and others you feel like you're slipping and sliding on ice and you have no idea what you're doing or even if what you ARE doing is working. Such is the case today.
Reagan, who should have been put down for a nap much earlier than she was, threw toys at and then scratched one of her friends in the face. This from my girl who has never been a hitter, biter, scratcher or any of the like. I was mortified. Clearly she was exhausted. But I couldn't just let it go...no, she had to get the full gamut of punishments...toys gone, time-outs endured and apologies administered. Princess castle? Gone. Rose Petal Cottage store? Gone. Ok. Let's be frank--my lovely tom-boy of a girl could have cared less about the princess castle being taken away. She was a little more hurt with her store getting taken away. But still...to just take her things away from her? Instead of feeling like I'm upholding the sword of justice and instilling in her the ideas and behavior that I KNOW she needs to be taught, I feel more like a bully ripping her toys away from her, resulting in sending her to future therapy sessions lamenting over the fact that she has attachment problems.
Somehow I think parenting in the 1950s might have been a tad bit easier. *Sigh*