Lessons in Bad Parenting

Madeline was in a particularly grumpy mood on our way home on Friday since I interrupted her afternoon nap when I came to pick her up from daycare.

We stopped to buy her a new pair of sneakers, and she behaved like a beastie most of the time.  I tried to smooth over the situation by letting her pick her new sneakers herself, (from a pre-screened selection.)  I let her wear her new kicks out of the store, and it seemed like a baby tantrum had been adverted.  

I was feeling pretty good about my mad parenting skills until Madeline decided to screech, rip off her new shoes, and throw them across the backseat of the car. 

Therefore, when I heard her making creature growls from the backseat as we drove out of the parking lot,  I ignored her.  I sighed deeply, ground my teeth, and started counting the hours till bedtime.      

When her crying grew a little more urgent, however, I glanced over my shoulder to see what was wrong.  

There was Madeline, back arched, limbs flailing, sliding out of her car seat and onto the floor.  It seems that in my hurry to get my whinny baby home, I forgot to buckle her in.  

Oops.  Mother of the year award here, folks.  Yes indeed.  

Oh, and her new shoes gave her blisters.