All of my children, adopted with their siblings, have suffered from this disease; the affliction appearing more obvious in some kids than others, but the good news is that it is treatable and curable.

I’d have had it too had I grown up unloved, abused and neglected.

Pushed through the foster care system, somehow most of my kids were in right decent foster homes, some were in spectacular homes, but other than a foster mom who put a two year old on clonidine for his hyperactivity, I have few complaints. That hyper kid, as all two year olds should be, actually struggles with Cerebral Palsy.

However this PLOM Disease – Poor Little Old Me – coined by Zig Ziglar, or at least that’s where I heard about it, rears its head around here during stressful times and certainly every time a child is corrected.

“I didn’t do it!” Even if caught red-handed or “He always picks on me,” is used interchangeably with “You always think it is me!”

Poor Little Old Me, misunderstood and persecuted, choosing to be a victim, and if I allow them to carry this into adulthood it will result in a long succession of lost jobs, opportunities and relationships.

It’s not easily cured, there’s a great deal of re-direction involved, but like shedding a layer of skin, I have watched this set of scales fall off of my children over the years knowing I don’t accept dumb excuses or even the clever ones.

I absolutely take full responsibility for my own foul ups this past weekend causing my 17 year old daughter to miss Saturday School and her Sunday evening job because I misread my own Franklin Covey Planner. I apologized to her school principal and to her boss. The ultimate responsibility fell on me and I let her down.

Yes, she too should have written it down, she’s old enough to take responsibility and she’ll do the ISS time at school and she’ll suffer the lost wages from Sunday night.

But I’m the mom and sometimes it’s also good for them to see me flub it and admit it. I offered her zero excuses only my heartfelt apology. She knew I felt foolish and forgetful; she didn’t rub it in, but instead spoke out, “I should have done better too.”

But neither of us went down the victim road claiming we’re too busy or stressed out. Again, no excuses because it isn’t a PLOM moment. She has grown very far past that stage.