Mean Mom

Try as I might to play Uno, let them eat chocolate, and watch Yo Gabba Gabba on repeat, I too succumb to the occasional mean mom status. I wanted to submit this written and photographic evidence for Princess Sparkle’s personal records should she ever need proof of the maternal tyranny under which she was raised.

Today I told Sparkle Pants she has quiet time in her room. These days she is often allowed quiet time on the couch watching a show or movie, but 2-3 times a week must still have quiet time in her room. She usually comes out early and I usually give in due to her defeated little slouch and her sad little puppy eyes. Well today I said no more! She is to remain there until her clock says two zero zero. 2:00. Period.

Per usual, she came out early and per usual I told her to go back in her room…but this time I stuck to my guns.

It’s been a long time mom!

I know, but it’s not time to come out, I said.

Then I saw a note in her hand and asked if she had written me a note. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Awwwww. Smart girl…a note to the warden just might do the trick….

Nope.

Turns out it was her log of the minutes on the clock:

Almost cute and pathetic enough to make me reconsider….almost.

Look mom! It even got up to one hundred!

One hundred. The biggest number in the entire world in the four year old mind.

I sent her back with a charge to play instead of watching the minutes tick by.

As I went back to watching clips of Ellen on Hulu I couldn’t help but think…Quiet time and practicing telling time/writing her numbers? Dang, I’m a good mom.