(My) Parenting Truth

One afternoon you'll be sitting at your kitchen counter. It will have been a crazy morning. But by now the baby will be napping and you'll be writing about your oldest son, shaping your love and worry into words. You will be distracted by your nervousness; both anxious and worried about documenting your feelings surrounding his behavior.

You will, once again, be only half paying attention to your third child. The one who is, by now, accustomed to only ever having half of your attention. Which is a post for another time. Guilt to chew on later. A whole 'nother set of anxiety and worry.

You will be typing and playing, which is by now, something you're accustomed to doing if you ever want to get a blessed word written.

In your peripheral vision you will see your little girl climb up onto the kitchen counter and drag two over sized Halloween plates out of the cabinet, clank two forks out of the silverware drawer and slam them down in front of you, giving you your salad. With peanut butter sauce. And vanilla ice cream made of glued together cotton balls. The game of the moment is restaurant. And you'll click clack away on the keyboard and take air bites and uh-huh and yup and I love you too sweetie through the next ten minutes.

Then your four year old will ask you, perhaps sensing your exasperation, perhaps wanting to draw you further in to her game..."Mom, do you want me to get you a glass of wine? I know you like wine." And you will twist your face to find hers, search her beautiful chocolate eyes, full of hope and wonder, and consider a few things.

1. You love this child.

2. You know she can reach the plastic cups, she can scale rock climbing walls with astonishing ease.

3. There is half a bottle of white wine in the fridge. You checked while packing lunches.

4. It is on a low shelf.

5. She can open the fridge door by herself. You've seen her do it in order to get to her beloved Dora yogurts.

6. You are kind of thirsty.

7. It is Monday.

8. It is after Noon.

9. She really wants to help you.

10.Who are you to deny this child the opportunity to make her Mama smile?

11.You buy bottles of wine with screw on caps for a reason.

12.You are an average mother. It is entirely possible that your kids will end up in therapy for something you denied them; a slight or oversight somewhere along the way. Isn't becoming your mother's bartender at the ripe old age of four as good a reason for therapy as any?

13. You love this child.

Cheers!!



Kids Say the Meanest Things (to their Moms)

Sometimes I think I've got it together. Perhaps I’ve just survived five days with 4 kids while my husband is halfway across the world on business. Maybe I’ve taken a shower two, or better yet three, days in a row. It could be that I’ve cleaned more than one room in my house in a month. Or I’ve been able to get the baby to sleep in his crib for more than twenty minutes at night. Possibly I’ve dedicated a good thirty minutes to playing with my little girl. Or I have managed not to make it through a school morning without losing my temper with my oldest two children, whom both seem hell bent on destroying me emotionally.  So on occasion, yes, I feel like I’m a pretty damn good parent. On occasion I think; Sweet Jesus I’ve got this whole motherhood thing figured out. Parenting is No. Big. Deal.

And then sometimes, while sitting at dinner, my 8 year old son will say something like “mom when I think of you, I think of three things: friendly, funny and swearing.” And that is when I can physically feel myself shrinking to a child-sized being; I feel myself being put in place by my kid. In front of my mother no less, who is quite obviously smirking, and quietly vowing to tell my father all about THIS. To be fair to myself, my son’s outburst of honesty came amidst husband’s said international business trip, and a seemingly endless snowy and bone chilling winter. I have had extra swears to say these past few days, cause there have been extra reasons to say them.

Regardless, it was in that moment that I finally felt as though I need to make a concerted effort to tone down my profanity. Clean my language up, and keep it classy for the sake of my kids. This of course will be a tremendous challenge for me because swearing is what I do. In fact, I used to do it just to drive my father crazy. He would tell me I was too creative to swear, whatever the farting dog that means, and I would tell him swears were just words and storm off swearing under my breath.  

Until now I’ve not worried about my kids picking up on my bad habit, and unlike my father I’m not sure it would irritate me. Thankfully my oldest daughter would never dream of swearing, out loud or under her breath. My son is a little more brazen, but for the most part keeps his swearing to “crap” and “fricking” and for times when he’s really, really mad. Like when his little sister tries to talk to him while he plays Minecraft. And my three year old; she is far more likely to test the waters. And holy shit…she’s actually four. Anyhow, my FOUR year old could hold her own in a bar, at a football game, or with the commercial fishermen at the pier if she needed to. But she’s just a little sprite…you know, around three or four, and it is still endearing when she drops a swear or two. And the baby, who knows? I suppose his first word could very well be shit. Or damn. Or stop driving like an asshole!

 

Yes, I will surrender and admit that swearing is not one of my more endearing qualities. I will make a deal with my son, and promise him that I will try to stop ruining his childhood with my vulgarity. But being the parenting guru that I am; a mom who has her shit together, I will also remind my kid that of late, it is he and his siblings who 99.9% of the time have driven me to cuss and curse and say bad words. Really, it’s his own effing fault.