Tonight my 8 year old spilt an entire glass of water all over my bedside drawers, soaking one phone, 2 library books, my journal, the wall, a lamp and a power plug board.
I really wanted to yell at him. I stomped around, rescuing items and towelling things dry, thinking I just want to SHOUT! Bloody Bloody Bloody.
Anyway, other than stomping, I did not shout. I was quite pleased with myself about this because showing restraint is not my forte and I would have felt like an ASSHOLE if I had of yelled at him.
So I'm laying next to him after reading him a chapter of Harry Potter & the Chamber of Secrets, feeling pretty good. I love reading to my kids and I especially love that he still lets me read to him - he has outgrown a lot of me lately - I'm gonna hang onto this reading privilege as long as he'll let me.
So I hand him a glass of water and say "Careful - you wouldn't want to spill it". He gives me a cheeky smile. I say - "Did you notice I didn't even yell - how good am I getting at this Mum stuff?"
His eyes light up and he says "Yeah but you did say a swear word"
I say "No. Nope. Definitely not"
He's grinning from ear to ear "Yes you did. And it was the worst one"
I'm shaking my head "No way mate. No way. You must have been hearing things"
He's laughing. I'm laughing. In all my stomping and not yelling I had forgotten that the only thing that had left my mouth when I heard the splash was an almighty 'FUCK!'
So what could have been a shitty parenting moment turned into a shared mischief. I guess I didn't exactly get it right, but I sure as fuck didn't get it wrong!