I woke up this morning being beaten repeatedly in the face with Bella’s pacifier that is attached to a stuffed kitty. She had a rough night since we’re staying with my parents and ended up in bed with us. Somehow she learned to wield the paci like a slingshot after waking up at the unholy hour of 6am.
Screaming with delight, she whirled it faster and faster as it smacked me on my head, eyes, nose, and mouth. I was so exhausted I just mumbled, “Bella, knock it off” and covered my face. The beating continued. She was totally thrilled with having a captor to practice her skills on.
Then, in a moment of brief consciousness and clarity, I suddenly remembered months ago hearing someone talk about their kid hitting them in the face in bed, and feeling the utmost pity and contempt for their out of control child and obvious lack of parenting skills. I tucked that story away for a day Bella would attempt it and naturally I would be the mother who nipped it in the bud. And I would congratulate myself.
So now I lay there thinking,”I ::whack:: really shouldn’t ::thump:: judge anyone ::screams of happiness:: until I’ve ::smack:: walked in their shoes ::wham::”
And/or been hit with their kids’ paci.