In which I declare myself the winner of parenting…

Last time I blogged, I discussed my (numerous) failures as a parent.  

Let me be clear here, mmmk?  Parenting is not all sunshine and rainbows and sparkle ponies. Kids cry.  They whine.  They wait until you have them in a public space to ask how babies get out of mommies.  They can never let you go to the bathroom alone.   Sure, it is great and all, biggest accomplishment of my life.    But it is really freaking hard.    And no one gives you a trophy at the end. 

Except…..this note that was hand-delivered to me at 930 pm by a blatant bedtime violator….

Image

Clearly this is a trophy.  A big shiny declarer of my parenting prowess.  I am basking in the glory of this moment.

Because tomorrow, I might suck and my kids might mistake a celebrated children’s author for a notorious dead terrorist again.  

But, tonight?  I FREAKING WIN.  

Gauntlet thrown, bitches.

 

(except not really, because parenting is not a contest.)

(and if it were, there would be no point in accepting my challenge.  Because I win.)

 

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