I recently had two friends within a 24 hour period tell me how their children have never, ever told them they don’t like them. These same friends also told me they have no idea what they’d do if their kids ran away from them when they were in trouble- their kids wouldn’t do that.

Are you kidding me?!

I can’t decide if they are that much better of a parent then me (very possible), their kids are saints (also possible), I’m that sucktastic as a parent (possible, but I hope not really) or that the Bean is just that much of a sass pot (definitely).

This little girl is dishing it out in full force lately. The Hubs and I are partly to blame as this summer thus far as been a nonstop whirlwind of BBQs, late night fireworks, visits to near by lakes and fun times in the pool- on top of a full day of fun at camp.  All this adds up to equal late bedtimes and a tired kids.  I keep trying to get us back on track, but this gorgeous weather and good friends and family is making it very, very hard.

Today on the way home from camp, Beaner finally broke.  She started sobbing because the latex gloves the kind nurse at the dr’s office gave her yesterday didn’t fit her properly (no duh- they were adult larges).  Then she hit her brother when he tried to help. Then she screamed bloody murder because I wouldn’t pull over the car to help her. On and on it went on the 9 (torturous) minute drive home as Scorch and I tried to ignore her since she was past the point of reasoning.  When we got home, she immediately went in timeout for hitting Scorch- but she wouldn’t sit still. Her 4 minute timeout turned into 15 minutes because she wouldn’t sit where I told her to. She’s scotch her little buns while staring at me with her chin jutted out and her eyes flashing fire.

Finally, finally, she served her time properly so I went over to talk to her. We discussed why she was in timeout and I asked for an apology from her.  Her response? “Sorry, stupie!” with all the attitude she could muster.  Stupie– excuse me? I know darn well by her tone she was calling me stupid – but she swore up and down that Stupie was her new nickname for me.

Back to timeout she went- all the while muttering under her breath that she doesn’t like me at all.

*sigh* I wouldn’t trade that little ball of energy and sass for anything, but I wonder how I missed the line for compliant kids when I was pregnant.