"If there's a war in the middle east...

...you will find a way to make it my fault." It was my Mom's expression - thrown about throughout my childhood whenever Mother dearest felt my siblings and I were unfairly volleying accusations her way. I thought she was crazy. We didn't blame her for everything... only the stuff that was really her fault. Ha.

Turnabout is fair play.

I've learned from my own experience that my mother wasn't crazy after all. We really did blame her for everything. And now my own sweet little angels do it to me.

Just yesterday, Sam blamed me for losing his shoes. No matter that I don't wear size 11 crocs... I must have snuck in to his room and stolen them. I also lost Jordan's jacket and cleaned the floor JUST so it would be slippery and all the children would fall, and attacked the Nick Jr. Internet server so that it stopped working just when my kids wanted to play Dora's Carnival Adventure. Apparently I have this master plan of misery and destruction that I don't actually know about. I exist, as it seems, to make my children's lives more difficult. All ill fortune, bad luck, or poor judgment is because I caused it... or at best, I failed to prevent it.

The most amazing part is watching the patterns of logic that lead to my receiving blame.

Lucy: "Mommy, where did you put the remote control?"

Me: "I haven't used the remote control, Lucy. Jordan had it this morning. It must be on the couch."

Lucy: "It isn't there! You were in the living room last night. You must have put it somewhere."

Me (because repetition is so much fun): "I didn't put it anywhere. Did you look on the couch?"

Lucy: "No. But where did YOU put it?"

Oh dear. She almost had me convinced I really WAS guilty.

It's not as if Mother's actually need help feeling responsible for all things... I think we torture ourselves quite a bit on our own. I know I am constantly hopeful that I am doing enough, trying hard enough, giving my kids all that they need, hoping the times that I fail don't affect them too severely... I've got enough to worry about without sabotaging children's websites and hiding shoes, don't I?

Fortunately, the blame game didn't last forever in my house growing up, and I don't expect it will with my own kids either. Because kids DO grow up. They learn responsibility and accountability and hopefully, they develop a fine appreciation of their Mama and all the things she does right. I know I did. :)