So, Conner comes in while I’m showering and says, “Mom I want you to know that you are NOT a very good mom.” He then berated me for asking him to clean-up his stuffed animals. I thanked him for his honesty and asked him to leave. I started to think that I’ve had this particular gig (mom) for the longest of all of my jobs. I have never been told (except for a few bad experiences in nursing school, which is to be expected) that I was a bad nurse. As far as I can remember I’ve never been told I was a bad scrapbooker… so, this was a first for me. So, I’m a bad mom, and I’m dealing with it.
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