I’m done parenting today

Yup, I declared this about four hours ago. I’m just done.

It started with faux pinkeye and a trip to the doctor who insists on calling my kid “Squidward” from “SpongeBob Square Pants.” He has a great bedside manner, but I kinda don’t believe his diagnosis. I get that he has a medical degree (from The University Under the Sea apparently) and mine is in journalism, but come on, the eyes were crusty and pink.


“Well, what if by Friday it’s WORSE?” I asked him in my TIGER MOM tone.

“Well, it will get worse before it gets better. The cold is in his eyes,” Dr. SquirdWard told me.


Lord knows this is gonna turn into pinkeye by Saturday. And, if I am super lucky, which I generally am, it will infect his twin sister around 9 a.m., which is the exact time I am leaving with all the kids to travel overnight to a soccer tournament. SCORE!

Anyways, Dr. Squidward told me to send Non-Pinkeye Kid back to school.  So, I did …

At 3 p.m. my cell phone rings. I hate answering my cell phone during that hour … but it’s Non-Pinkeye’s teacher. Turns out, his ear was killing him. He was just in to see Dr. Squidward, who declared he could “see through his ears all the way to Lake Erie.”

“Maybe the doctor put the tool in too far?” I said.

“OK, so I will just put him on the bus and you will give him mom love when he gets home …” the kind teacher asked me.

“OK!” I replied.

Fifty-minutes later, Non-Pinkeye Kid walks off the bus, crying.

Parent fail.

Yet amazingly, I gave him some Tylenol, promised him a trip to the Dollar Store and his ear was fine.


So, we drove the hormonal pre-teen to basketball practice (which by the way, I was super stressed about him making the damn team, I never, ever, ever took into consideration I would become his bitch … driving him to and from practice).

After the store, where I just bought more medicine, we drove home and tackled DoomsDay Hour with gusto. (And, just to let you readers know, I drove through my town at least 10 times today …)

The point of this blog is, today, I was done. I was done being a parent.

However, the thing is, right now, like RIGHT NOW, my twins are sitting two feet away from me spelling words from Junie B. Jones books and I am supposed to guess what they are reciting back to me.


I am so tapped out. I can’t even form another single thought in my head, let alone try to read a Junie B. Jones book.

All I want to do is sit on my ass and watch “The Alaskan Bush People.” That’s all. That’s all I want do.


About the author:

Melissa Linebrink is a reporter/bi-monthly columnist for “The Mommy Wars” printed in The Chronicle-Telegram. She has been featured as a blogger on the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop site, www.humorwriters.org and “Great Moments in Parenting.” She also writes, edits and manages her blog, http://parenthoodthenewcrazytrain.com/. She can be reached at mlinebrink@yahoo.com.