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Parenting Fail? Self Incrimination Through Education

Sorry about the absence.  Things are going here about exactly as you would expect.  There’s a lot of poop.  Some spit up.  And no one seems to have an uninterrupted moment of sleep or silence.

BUT we’re all healthy and pretty happy so I’m feeling very fortunate.

Meanwhile, Mac has been left to his own devices perhaps a bit too often.

A couple of times the past several days, I’d hear him walking around muttering “Hexagon.  Hexagon.”

Weird right?

But kid’s ARE weird so I would enthusiastically say, “Yes, Mac!  A Hexagon has six sides.  You are working hard to learn those shapes aren’t you?  How many sides does a triangle have?”

“Hexagon.” He’d reply.

Hmmmmm. . .He KNOWS how many sides a triangle has.  He’s been identifying triangles for months.  Always saying “triangle three sides!”

Then the baby would interrupt with an impressive projectile vomit requiring my undivided attention.

But last night before bed, Mac wandered into the bathroom and once again I heard him mumbling “Hexagon.”

I had to get to the bottom of this.  What gives?

I hopped off the bed and plopped Teddy in the crib.

“Watchya doin’ Mac?” I asked trying not to sound immediately judgmental or suspicious.

Even though one glance at his demeanor indicated that I should ABSOLUTELY be SUSPICIOUS.

He was hunkered down in the corner of the bathroom facing the cabinetry.  One pudgey little fist was jammed into a drawer as far as the child-proofing would allow access.

When he turned to look at me, I noticed he was CHEWING SOMETHING!

I could have died.  What was he eating?  Toothpaste?  A Pepto-Bismol?  WHAT?  And why was he saying hexagon while he did it? 

Oh my word!  He’s been doing this for DAYS, Deni, DAYS!  You’re a terrible parent.  


He’s also been doing the same thing in the kitchen.  And there’s definitely NOT toothpaste or Pepto in the kitchen.  He’s probably not doing anything that could make him sick.


“Mac, you silly monkey, do you have something in your mouth?  What are you doing in that drawer?  You’re not to be in the cabinets.  You know that.”

Quick as a fish, he whips his fist out of the drawer, slams it shut and runs straight at me.  I brace myself for impact but at the last possible moment, he lurches to my right, barrels past me, and throws himself head-first at the bed in the other room.

Laughing. He’s laughing SO HARD.

“HEXAGON!  hahahahahaha!  Hexagon!”

“Mackinley, what’s with Hexagon?  Is there a HEXAGON IN YOUR MOUTH?!”

He rolls himself face down on the bed, “Hahahaha, Hexagon!”

“Could you share your hexagon with Mommy?” I ask sitting down on the bed.  My heart feels like it’s ready to explode.

“No.” He answers matter of factly rolling face up.

Please don’t choke!  

“Mommy needs to see what’s so funny.” I say less gently this time.

“No.” He says again.

“Mackinley, if you don’t show Mommy the hexagon, I’m going to have to forcibly remove it from your mouth.  Do you understand?  Your choice.  Show Mommy or she’s going to look herself.”

He pulled Hexagon out of his mouth and proudly presented it to me. . .




Of course I explained these suckers weren’t for eating.

And for a few minutes I felt like a pretty shitty parent. . .

BUT had I never taken the time to teach him what a Hexagon was, I probably never would have caught him.

Sure, some would consider this a parenting fail. . .but I prefer to think of it as proactive parenting:  Self incrimination through education. . .

Or something. . .

I need a shower and some coffee.