The Art of War

I truly believe that every mom goes through difficult spurts with each of their kids. I believe that it is not just me, that I am not simply a bad mom.



As much as you read about the chaos that goes on here on the blog, there's ten times a much good, boring, run of the mill stuff that happens, too. So, no, I do not think I'm a bad mother.



But I have reached another cross roads with Jax and have come to the conclusion that I have got to step up the discipline now or he's a goner.



The tantrums have become, in a word: unbearable. My sweet, funny, larger-than-life little boy truly seems to have some kind of monster residing inside his chunky little body, and it's time to exorcise it.



Something has to work, because Amy the Emotionally Fragile cannot take much more --
especially in public.

I'm going to spare you the nasty details, but let's just say that there were 2 incidents, and one of them ended with me half topless, groping around the produce section of the grocery store looking for my glasses.

Let the stare-down begin.