So I was thinking the other day, "Why does it seem like I am really bad at this whole 'Mom' thing sometimes?" And I think I've figured it out.
You always hear about those funny lists that people make about a Mom's true job description:
"The job titles that best matched a mom's definition of her work are (in order of hours spent per week): housekeeper, day care center teacher, cook, computer operator, facilities manager, van driver, psychologist, laundry machine operator, janitor and chief executive officer."
(http://swz.salary.com/momsalarywizard/htmls/mswl_momcenter.html )
And I laugh as I totally agree with all of those. But I have never seen a list with the number one job that a mom does. Above keeping house, above launderer and even above short-order cook.
And that is a cheerleader.
What in the world? I never wanted to be a cheerleader, in fact almost all of the cheerleaders I have ever met have been some of the most snooty, judgmental, fake people. You know the type, the "most popular" with all the attitude that comes along with it. Now, if you are a cheerleader (which I doubt anyone, much less a cheerleader, would be reading this) I probably don't know you, so you could be an exception to the rule, but I'm just saying what my experience has been.
I was the dork who stayed inside during recess to do extra algebra problems (for fun) in high school. I have had the pleasure of being ridiculed by every snobby, "I'm-better-than-you-are" cheerleader and cheerleader wanna-be. They are SO FAKE! Ok, I guess you get how I feel about them.
Anyway.
What is also not helping is the fact that I think I was born without a "mommy sympathy" bone.
Seriously.
This is a typical scenario in our house:
Kid: (while holding various body parts) "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ow!Ow!Ow! Oh the pain!!, Etc. etc. yadda yadda"
Me: (Ok, a quick run-down in my head: I picture Beaver's mom, June, in her apron swooping down on the Beav, holding him lovingly and proceed to bandage his scraped knee with a full leg cast complete with cookies and kisses with every layer. Of course he can't walk with all that bandage, so she carries him to the couch and proceeds to wait on him hand and foot for the remainder of the day. Ugh. I would have kicked him in the butt and said, "What the crap, be a man would ya? You bled all over my clean floor!" Geez. I quickly decide against either option, but for different reasons)
So this is what I do:
Kid: (Runs into the house holding various body parts)"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ow!Ow!Ow! Oh the pain!!, Etc. etc. yadda yadda"
Me: (with a bored look) "What happened?"
Kid: (Lifts various body parts to display some supposed obvious wound)"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ow!Ow!Ow! Oh the pain!!, Etc. etc. yadda yadda"
Me: (sighs, why didn't Beaver ever do that?) "Well I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened"
Kid: (Shakes said body part at me)"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ow!Ow!Ow! Oh the pain!!, Etc. etc. yadda yadda"
Me: (I think June must have been on drugs)"Ok, well, when you are ready to tell me what happened, I'll be over here."
Kid: Finally tells story of "life-threatening" injury with occasional sobs and sniffles.
Me: "Oh, suck it up, it's not even bleeding. You'll be fine."
(ok, this is what I really want to say, but obviously it wouldn't fly very well)
Me: (for real) "Oh, you poor thing, let me kiss it" (cheerleader drama!)
or what about this scenario:
Kid: "I can't do this! I'm so bad at it! I can't do anything right!"
Me: (have I mentioned I have a major aversion to drama?) "What's wrong?"
Kid: "This picture! I hate it! I can't draw anything! I'm horrible!"
Me: (good grief, where did I put that sympathy bone again?) "Oh honey, I'm sure it's fine, let me see"
Kid: "NO! It's terrible, I don't want it!" (they proceed to crumple it up)
Me: (sigh. I hate this part. I pick up the crumpled offender) "Oh wow! How beautiful is that?? I think you did a great job!! (I sneak a peek at them to see if they are buying this cartload. I can't make heads or tails out of this! Crud. What IS that?)
"I love how you used the purple here in this....um.....cake?"
Kid: (throws head down dramatically in hands and moans loudly) "I KNEW IT!! I STINK! That's not a cake, its a horse!!!" (more moaning) "I can't do anything right!"
Me: (oh, way to go mom. When are you going to learn not to guess??!! What would June do? {Besides more drugs}) "I am sorry honey, I saw this part and it looked like a cake to me, but now I see the horse, it's beautiful!" (I quickly scan through my inventory of "Things to Say When You Have Blown It Big-Time" I got nothing. I try to remember what all these books say, I've only read a couple hundred dozen parenting books...there HAS to be something!)
"Baby, I think you tried your best and that is what is the most important thing! I am proud of you!"
Kid: (grumps at me and proceeds to slam crumpled paper in the trash and stomp off)
I hate cheerleading. I am really bad at it. I mean REALLY bad.
I don't want to cheer these buggers on when they are acting like little brats! I don't think they deserve to be applauded for a cruddy attitude. Wait. I wonder where they get that attitude from anyway? Must be their father. Yeah, that's it.
Ok, seriously. Sometimes I get SO tired of the cheering. It feels so fake to me and I know they can see right through it. I wonder if that is how God feels with us sometimes when we keep screwing up?
Here is a question I have: "Does God ever roll his eyes at all our drama?
So here I am. Trying to improve my cheerleader skills. I bet June Cleaver was a cheerleader.
Trying Out this Blogging Thing...
Ok, so I figure I've been wanting to try this blogging thing for awhile now. But I really didn't feel like going through all kinds of background info. More than likely no one is going to read this, so I am just going to jump straight into today and lace each blog with a bit of history. That way, on the off chance someone accidentally stumbles on this they won't be all, "What in the WORLD??" :)
Ok, so today...I was kind of in a rush getting out of the house this morning and rushing the kids out the door. (If you are a mom, you know exactly what I mean) Usually I am a big time planner and have my time all scheduled out so that we are out the door in plenty of time, but every now and then....well it just doesn't work out that way. Ok, back to the story. So I am in the car waiting for my oldest son (7) to join the rest of us so we can go. Earlier he had run out to the car in search of a toy and apparently he noticed a mosquito hawk perched in front of my back tire. Instead of getting in the car like I was asking him to do, he came around to my window and motioned me to roll it down. Which I did with an exasperated look. Then it began:
Me: "Sweetie, get in the car, its time to go."
Jake: "But Mom! There's a bug!"
Me: "Ok, thats nice, please get in the car."
Jake: "MOM! Its right in front of your tire! You are going to run it over!"
Me: "No I won't, I promise, now get in the car please!"
Jake: "But Mom, you will, its RIGHT there!"
Me: (Getting really aggravated now) Jacob, I am telling you I WILL NOT RUN OVER THE BUG! It is in front of my tire, and we are going backwards, therefore I will not squish the bug. Now GET. IN. THE. CAR."
Jake: (Looks at the bug, looks at the tire, looks at me.) "But your front tire will squish it!"
Me: (So extremely frustrated I could scream) Jacob. Get in the car RIGHT now."
He stomps foot and begrudgingly gets into the car. I make a BIG show of turning my wheel all the way so that we actually go over the curb instead of squish the poor mosquito hawk. He is happy, I can even see a satisfied smile on his face. Yes! Go me! I made supermom status before 8am.
Fast forward a bit. Now I am saying goodbyes before school, zipping coats and passing out kisses. I kneel down to zip my youngest son's coat and when I finish I stand up and step back.
CRUNCH/SQUISH!!!!
Jake: (Aghast) "MOM!"
Me: "Oh, no. What was that?"
Jake: (starts sobbing)
I look down at a blob of black with yellow something coming out of it. Oh, great. A stink bug. Ugh!
Me: "Oh baby, I am SO sorry! It was an accident, I didn't know it was there!"
Jake: (More crying, with a touch of anger. He crosses his arms angrily, scowls and grumps)
Me: "Jake, really, I am so sorry honey. I really am sorry!"
He stomps off to school, glaring at me over his shoulder.
I just lost hero status in a split second. I know this sounds like he is a horrid kid, but really he isn't, he is actually one of the easiest kids ever. He just has a bad day every now and then.
Bright side: At least I have a super sensitive son! :)
Go me.
Ok, so today...I was kind of in a rush getting out of the house this morning and rushing the kids out the door. (If you are a mom, you know exactly what I mean) Usually I am a big time planner and have my time all scheduled out so that we are out the door in plenty of time, but every now and then....well it just doesn't work out that way. Ok, back to the story. So I am in the car waiting for my oldest son (7) to join the rest of us so we can go. Earlier he had run out to the car in search of a toy and apparently he noticed a mosquito hawk perched in front of my back tire. Instead of getting in the car like I was asking him to do, he came around to my window and motioned me to roll it down. Which I did with an exasperated look. Then it began:
Me: "Sweetie, get in the car, its time to go."
Jake: "But Mom! There's a bug!"
Me: "Ok, thats nice, please get in the car."
Jake: "MOM! Its right in front of your tire! You are going to run it over!"
Me: "No I won't, I promise, now get in the car please!"
Jake: "But Mom, you will, its RIGHT there!"
Me: (Getting really aggravated now) Jacob, I am telling you I WILL NOT RUN OVER THE BUG! It is in front of my tire, and we are going backwards, therefore I will not squish the bug. Now GET. IN. THE. CAR."
Jake: (Looks at the bug, looks at the tire, looks at me.) "But your front tire will squish it!"
Me: (So extremely frustrated I could scream) Jacob. Get in the car RIGHT now."
He stomps foot and begrudgingly gets into the car. I make a BIG show of turning my wheel all the way so that we actually go over the curb instead of squish the poor mosquito hawk. He is happy, I can even see a satisfied smile on his face. Yes! Go me! I made supermom status before 8am.
Fast forward a bit. Now I am saying goodbyes before school, zipping coats and passing out kisses. I kneel down to zip my youngest son's coat and when I finish I stand up and step back.
CRUNCH/SQUISH!!!!
Jake: (Aghast) "MOM!"
Me: "Oh, no. What was that?"
Jake: (starts sobbing)
I look down at a blob of black with yellow something coming out of it. Oh, great. A stink bug. Ugh!
Me: "Oh baby, I am SO sorry! It was an accident, I didn't know it was there!"
Jake: (More crying, with a touch of anger. He crosses his arms angrily, scowls and grumps)
Me: "Jake, really, I am so sorry honey. I really am sorry!"
He stomps off to school, glaring at me over his shoulder.
I just lost hero status in a split second. I know this sounds like he is a horrid kid, but really he isn't, he is actually one of the easiest kids ever. He just has a bad day every now and then.
Bright side: At least I have a super sensitive son! :)
Go me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)