Bad Mommy

Sam was throwing a fit the other night, after he'd been in bed about a half an hour. He was mad because he wanted to sleep with his Stitch sweatshirt, which he left in the car. I didn't want to go all the way out to the car to get the sweatshirt, and also was getting tired of the bedtime stall tactics. So I said no.

He decided that no was not an answer that he wanted, so he started whining, arguing, and grumbling at me about how he really neeeeeeeded this sweatshirt to sleep.

I got mad, and grumbled something about how "I'm not getting the sweatshirt, it's 80 degrees outside, you don't even need the stupid sweatshirt, blah blah blah blah."

Then he got mad and started screaming that I was the worst mommy ever. At this point, Clark came upstairs and took over. (apparently he's very helpful whenever someone attacks my parenting skills, up to that point it doesn't bother him)

When I went to bed that night, I found a picture on my pillow that Sam had drawn. It was a picture of me (I know this because it said "Mommy" with an arrow pointing to the person.) I was holding his stitch sweatshirt in one hand, and on the other side was a speech bubble that said "stoopid". At the top of the picture he'd written in big letters "DO YOU HAVE SOMTING TO SAY?" (which is the same thing I ask him any time he needs to apologize). So yeah, I'm a bad mommy. And I've got the art to prove it.

(I did eventually apologize to the sweatshirt for hurting its feelings)

Here's my little sensitive guy: