Guilty Pleasure

Let’s be honest. We all have guilty pleasures.

Admittedly, some are worse than others, but all are somewhat guilt inducing if we’re honest with ourselves.

Prior to having children, I would say mine was sweets. But in the last few years, a new pleasure has developed that I’m rather ashamed to admit. However, every time it happens, I realize how happy I am.

Are you ready for it? Well if you’re not, turn off Honey Boo boo and put down that bon bon because it’s bad. Seriously, prepare yourself.

Here goes…

I enjoy watching other people’s kids have meltdowns. 

That’s right. You heard me correctly. I get some sort of sick, twisted pleasure from watching other people’s kids have meltdowns in front of me.

And it gets worse than that…the bigger the meltdown, the better I feel. 

EEEeeeeckkk! I said it.

I first began to notice it when C hit the terrible twos and his tantrums were often and dramatic to put it nicely.

At one point after Paxton was born, I even considered filming one and putting it on YouTube to ask people if anyone could top it because I wasn’t sure it was humanly possible for another child to produce the same level of tantrum. I tell the truth, people. No lies.

So the first time I discovered this guilty pleasure was in Target back in 2010. It was late in the evening one dark stormy night…

Alright, alright. I added that in for dramatic effect. But it was late in the evening, and I was shopping alone for some odd reason. (Can I get an Amen to that, anyone?)

Anyway, about that time I was walking through the women’s section of the store and heard a little girl screaming from what sounded like the grocery section. I remember smiling upon hearing the screams then catching myself. At first I was surprised by my reaction. “Quin, are you smiling? That is so wrong. You know that mother is at her wit’s end and stressed out. There is nothing about her situation worthy of a smile.”

But for some reason, I could not wipe the smile off my face.

I know. Awful. Keep reading for more of my twistedness. 

Then this summer when we were on our roadtrip, there was a boy having a meltdown at a traffic stop that rivaled one of Christian’s. I mean honestly, if I wouldn’t have had him standing next to me, I would’ve thought it was him because this boy’s fit was loud and intense and very public.

And while it was all I could do to keep myself from jetting across the street to hug and encourage the mom to keep up the good work in the patience department, I also felt strangely amused.

I know. So wrong.

Then today, it happened again.

We were shopping at an outlet mall in Dallas and were in some version of hell heaven ourselves with our crying well-mannered boys when we stumbled upon another young fellow screaming at the top of his lungs outside of a store. And as I watched the mom just sit and hold this little guy while he screamed his lungs off…

I suddenly went from feeling super exhausted and frustrated with my own kids to feeling rejuvenated and happy.

What kind of person am I?

Well, let’s put it like this. If I was arrested under the charge of being the type of mom that enjoys and feels relief from finding out that ALL kids meltdown from time to time and that I’m not alone when my kids are acting that way…

Then lock me up and throw out the keys in a hurry!



Tell me about your guilty pleasure…Can you relate?

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Quinn is a wife, blogger and boymom with a degree in marriage and family therapy. 99% of her time is spent keeping her four boys alive and the other 1% is spent writing about their crazy times in her blog called Sanctification and Spitup also found on Facebook, Pinterest and Instagram. If you want to instantly feel better about the hecticness of your life, give her a follow to see it could be much worse. (She only wishes she was kidding.)

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