Ah, the challenges of being a mom. I realize now that my entire life I've been preparing for this. All of my education, life experience and the advice given to me by my parents have gone into this one moment: the moment where I walk into my son's room at 9:30 in the evening and find a pair of scissors, open packages of food, toys with cut strings and clothing with new and exciting holes where there were no holes before, and I am met with the following explanation: "I didn't do it."

This is when I start wondering if I am somehow failing as a parent. Either my son is walking around with wax earplugs in his ears or he just doesn't care to listen to me. Either way, I constantly feel like I'm talking to myself. Did he get this stubbornness from me? From my husband? From the aliens that clearly must have abducted my sweet boy and returned this pod person to me?

Now, I know I wasn't always the best child. I was stubborn and once locked my brother in a toy box. Somehow, this knowledge doesn't make me feel any better right now. My husband wasn't always the best child either (this, too, is no surprise). What I really need is to figure out how to deal with a child who blames the cat for the artwork on the wall, or his sleeping younger sister for the five half-eaten apples tossed under his bed.

This weekend, we are going to be travelling so that all three of the kids can be in a wedding. Luke will be the ring-bearer, Maggie and Ella will be the flower girls. This is really starting to stress me out! What if Ella decides to throw her dress over her head, or run off with the basket? Will Luke decide to show off and be goofy? I hope that I have taught them well enough to behave at such a special occasion. Of course, I see the way they act in church, and the incident where Luke said the word "WEINER" at the top of his lungs does not bode well.

I just hope he takes out the earplugs long enough to listen to me say, "I love you."