It’s like big fun is contingent upon big mess, loud noises, big destruction and even bigger danger. Is it a boy thing? I don’t even know anymore.
All I know is that maintaining a livable house and the ability to assemble even a single, cohesive thought involves shutting the fun down. If I have to hear one more little voice utter, “We were just having fun!”…
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve become the destroyer of fun because I’m not having any fun. Wow, what an unfun thought.
Never ever will Sharpie markers on the carpet and sliding down the banister become my idea of fun; so what’s a mom is to do? Continue to be the destroyer of all fun?
I want to be a cool mom (never to be confused with an easy mom); one who allows my children to use their imaginations and navigate their world under the safe confines and even safer restrictions of proper parenting law but c’mon! Being the destroyer of fun pretty much sucks.
Can you relate? Have any suggestions?
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