Sometimes You Just Gotta Go Mom

Ummmm... Did you think I was going to be someone else today?

Lena returned to school today and needless to say after two days on hiatus, she came home with plenty of make up homework. When she called to check in I told her to get started on it. Not really what she wanted to hear, so I had to pull my parent card out.

It got me to thinking about the whole fact that being your child's best friend while they're young is really nothing short of a delusion. Don't get me wrong, I will be the first person to say that my daughter is my friend, but I'm also not afraid to draw the line and slap my mom card on the table whenever I see fit.

I love my daughter. And that's just it... I love my daughter.

I love her too much to let her walk all over me. I'm a big advocate for allowing my child to make choices, to assert her independence, to be who she wants to be... Within reason.

I have one friend in particular who has adopted the whole parenting through friendship concept and personally speaking, I think she's nuts! I love her, but her daughter sorta reminds me of this...

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little (or maybe I'm not). Either way, I refuse to let Lena end up like either of those two brats! I will continue to "go mom on her" whenever she's getting a little too big for her breeches. I'm the parent and at the end of the day... What I say... Goes.

I'm Going To Stitch Her Lips

Lena has been hard at work the past several months crafting her art of sarcasm. Lately she's been hell bent on pointing out that I'm an almost middle ager.

As we were getting ready for school/work this morning she was holding Sam and called him a fluffy piece of meat and then proceeded to bury her face in his belly.

I made a joke about how it wasn't nice to want roasted cat for breakfast, in return she told me that she'd rather roast my hand. I told her I needed it to beat her with though (laughing all the while). Her response...

"I don't think you could even catch me mom... You are almost 30."

Consider her a dead child later when I have more time to properly tickle her to the brink of suffocation. Oops, sorry!