Becoming a good mom, one hour at a time
Oh, the screaming.
I shudder to imagine what the neighbors thought was going on at our house. But it was just bath time.
Over the last six months or so, when it came time to wash my kid’s hair, Peeper would disappear and a panicked, sobbing, shrieking beast took her place.
It was torture, apparently, for her, and it was no fun for us parents, either.
But what I ended up learning helped make all the screaming, the crying and the frustration a little more worth the struggle.
I had it all planned out.
Peeper and I went to the Dollar Store for a special mama-daughter adventure. We got, among other things, an absurd number of heart balloons.
We made it home without any of the balloons floating away or causing a traffic accident. On the drive, I had told Peeper about how we’d take a picture with Kiwi and the balloons, and she could watch Daniel Tiger afterwards. (Yes, a blatant bribe. I stand by that tactic.)
So I set up the sisters with the balloons, turned on my camera and got ready to photograph some serious cuteness.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
Peeper resisted. She flopped on her back. She cried. She squirmed away.
Peeper’s fit frightened her little sister, so Kiwi began to cry, too.
I gave up. I nearly cried. I did not feel like a good mother or even a good enough mother. Read more
