good mom bad mom

While I was getting ready this morning, Vaughn left the room for a minute. He waddled back in the bathroom with his shoes and socks in his hands. He proceeded to sit on the floor while trying to put his shoes on. I told him, "Awe, Vaughn, you are such a good boy. Are you ready to go to school?" After saying those words, I thought about how good of a job Dave and I are doing in teaching Vaughn routines and how to be a good boy in the midst of his crazy toddler behaviors.

Not even ten minutes later, my thoughts went from thinking I was a good mom to thinking I was a terrible, terrible mom.

I set the alarm, grabbed my stuff, held Vaughn's hand, walked into the garage, opened the garage door and opened the door to the car. In the seconds it took to put my stuff down in the car, I turned around to see Vaughn running sprinting down the driveway. Arms flailing from side to side. I don't know if you've seen Vaughn run, but his belly is so big it makes it a very difficult task, AND he was going down hill.

Our street is typically very quiet especially in the morning, but of course, as Vaughn is sprinting towards the road, a car was passing by. Thankfully, they saw him and slowed down, and I was able to grab him just as he started to place a toe on the street. I snatched him up, told him now that was not a nice thing to do and that he could have gotten hurt in a little bit of a different tone then I used ten minutes prior.

I kissed his forehead, strapped him into his car seat, and we were off to school.

 I picked him up from school to find that his shoes were on the wrong feet. They had been that way, all day.