Not exactly a tragedy, but…

definitely a fiasco. Today I discovered that my four-year-old had written all over the hardwood floors of our house with a pink marker. (I think it’s hi-liter.) Not just one room either — from end-to-end of the house. I’ve tried everything to get it off. The only thing that seems to work is the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, but that seems to be erasing some of the finish as well…

I know this is a normal thing for kids to do, a kind of rite-of-passage for parenting, but I am meditating with this mantra: I still love him I still love him I still love him……..

This is one of the hard days though.

It unfolded like this:

I noticed the writing on the floor and almost assumed that the two-year-old had somehow gotten a pen. I mean, surely the four-year-old knows better, right? So I asked the four-year-old about it, and he started telling the story of how his brother had written on the floor. Then I noticed that the scribbles were in the shapes of houses and letters, so I asked if the four-year-old had written it. He denied having done it, so I said, “If you tell the truth, I won’t be mad.” (Total mistake saying that…)

So, he siad, “Yeah, I did it. I wrote it.” And I had to turn away, because I felt like a cartoon character. My lid was flipping, steam coming out of my ears. TOOT!

But what could I do? I had promised not to get mad….

(Raising Arizona)

Reporter: Mr. Arizona is it true your son was abducted by aliens?
Nathan Arizona: Oh, now, son, don’t print that. If his mama reads that, she’s just gonna lose all hope.

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