Just slap some Mrs. Butterworth on my head.

I'm waffling. And I'm really sorry for that last crack. That was bad. Very bad. Okay, I laughed.

My best friend came over this morning to the following sight: I am trying to make breakfast, child WAS watching Wa Wa Wubzy but had decided to shift gears and paint her fingernails (read: whole fingers) bright red. As I attempt to gain control of the situation, child screams, clutches nail polish applicator brush, falls to ground in heavy writhing heap, still screaming. The breakfast I was making is now scotching on the stove. Somehow, I have saved child, self and furniture from becoming "Chick Flick Red." I waffle. My daughter knows what not to touch and what she needs her mom's help for. But, I left the bottle right there on the coffee table. I waffle. I'm a bad mom because I leave trouble right in front of my unattended daughter. I'm a good mom because I actually make her homemade biscuits and gravy on Sunday morning and play her Mahalia Jackson.

This has been my whole weekend. I'm a good mom. I suck. I'm a good mom. I suck. I sent this clip to my friends to gauge if it was horrible that my kid sometimes acts like this. Or, perhaps worse, that I sometimes act like this. One said something very interesting. I may see my kid and I this way but others may not. Last week, I had to go the the mall to pay a bill that got screwed up from my move. I had to take my daughter with me. It was after swim lessons, she was tired and hungry but I had to get this errand run. In the chaos of trying to keep her by my side and order Chinese food at the same time, I did not see the paper sign that the debit card machine did not work until I got to the checkout with a tray full of food in front of me. I had no cash on me. The kind woman behind me, who saw me trying to wrestle my kid to my side using my hands and clenched teeth, paid for our lunch. Just touched me on the arm and said, "I've been there." I honestly tried not to cry. She didn't see a hellion or a horrible mom. She just saw life happening in front of her.

I'm trying to let that idea evolve. I sometimes feel I walk a fine line between negligent parent and overbearing mother. Yesterday, we went to spend the afternoon with the guy I'm seeing, we'll call him Dave, and his son at their house. My daughter has decided not to be potty trained anymore. She wet herself three times, once all over his nice hardwood floors. If I thought for a minute that he saw a hellion and her overbearing mother, I would not be dating this man. And, let me tell you there were a few times yesterday I felt like we deserved the titles.

Somewhere there is balance. I'd like to move from being a waffle to a pancake. If you have any idea what that means, let me know. I haven't the foggiest idea.