“I am so glad I took the day off...I signed Joey up at Tumble Bee, organized all my closets, ironed on name tags for all his clothes for next year and made dinner for the next ten nights. “
“Oh—my Caitlyn and I went to kiddy yoga, picked-up her violin for the new Suzuki method training, and put her on the wait list at Harvard.”
The women politely turned to me. I was sitting in a waiting room for one of those endless “Well Baby” visits while The Beast sat on my lap happily drooling and chewing on her baby board book. “Oh...well I also took the day off...the monster actually took a nap so I made myself an iced coffee and sat outside and read a WHOLE magazine article!..in the New Yorker!” It was one of the best days I have had in a long time.
For some reason they did not share my joy. One of the woman actually said—”I don’t even know you, but I hate you. “
It is my fault I know what my priorities are?
Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a competitive mommy situation? I hardly notice it now, but it is a constant here in the wilds of the upper middle class suburbs...who is the better mommy, the most saintly, the most giving, the most organized, the one who can position her child in the best social/academic/sports circles...
I find it all very tiring and I assume it will only get more intense as the kids head off to college.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Leather Pants and Ball Gags
“Do you feel it is okay to wear leather pants to a parent –teacher conference?” queried a friend one day when the kids first started kindergarten.
Taking a sip of her amazingly strong coffee and thinking I have FINALLY found someone else who triples the recommended amount of coffee... “why not--if you can pull leather pants off fashion-wise AND I think you can because you are tall and thin enough....bitch ”
“How about my ball-gag” asked her husband.
“Oh...I see now...Please don’t drag me into your little mommy-daddy dispute....for heavens sake... your child goes to the school with the arts-fartsy crowd" I said, "I am SURE they see mommies suited up in leather ALL THE TIME. The ball-gag, however, I would wait on. You might want to build more trust into the relationship with the school first. Try it out at a PTA meeting..OR...maybe a bake sale...
Hey during one of my back to school night I actually saw a mother with a ‘Got Beer?’ T-shirt on...and I wasn’t even looking in the mirror. If fact, this woman, who was also sporting a mullett haircut, did not even look like she was TRYING to push the envelope.
Taking a sip of her amazingly strong coffee and thinking I have FINALLY found someone else who triples the recommended amount of coffee... “why not--if you can pull leather pants off fashion-wise AND I think you can because you are tall and thin enough....bitch ”
“How about my ball-gag” asked her husband.
“Oh...I see now...Please don’t drag me into your little mommy-daddy dispute....for heavens sake... your child goes to the school with the arts-fartsy crowd" I said, "I am SURE they see mommies suited up in leather ALL THE TIME. The ball-gag, however, I would wait on. You might want to build more trust into the relationship with the school first. Try it out at a PTA meeting..OR...maybe a bake sale...
Hey during one of my back to school night I actually saw a mother with a ‘Got Beer?’ T-shirt on...and I wasn’t even looking in the mirror. If fact, this woman, who was also sporting a mullett haircut, did not even look like she was TRYING to push the envelope.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Whispering Threats--Lazy Mom Tip #1012
“You daughter is SO GOOD and I never hear you yell at her. How do you do it?” Asked a very tired looking mother at one of those hellish party pick-ups. You know the type--where you have to pull your child from a churning vat of brats hyped up sugar and cola.
“Oh...it is pretty simple...” I said while the other mother continued to call gently to her daughter to find her shoes and socks, but the child was bouncing from the couch to the ceiling ignoring the poor woman’s pleas.
“It is a technique I learned from my mother--I just grab her little arm and whisper threats in her ear. At this age they are SO small and SO easy to frighten.”
Horror spread over the woman’s face. “Do you think that is good for a child?”
“It is hard to tell...you really never know until they are out of the house and away at college...do you? But for now—it works like a charm.” I said and then called to my daughter—”Come along Beautiful Beast”...and off we skipped, my poor emotionally damaged child and I...leaving behind the the Dante-esque party scene, the tired, loving mother and the bouncing brat.
“Oh...it is pretty simple...” I said while the other mother continued to call gently to her daughter to find her shoes and socks, but the child was bouncing from the couch to the ceiling ignoring the poor woman’s pleas.
“It is a technique I learned from my mother--I just grab her little arm and whisper threats in her ear. At this age they are SO small and SO easy to frighten.”
Horror spread over the woman’s face. “Do you think that is good for a child?”
“It is hard to tell...you really never know until they are out of the house and away at college...do you? But for now—it works like a charm.” I said and then called to my daughter—”Come along Beautiful Beast”...and off we skipped, my poor emotionally damaged child and I...leaving behind the the Dante-esque party scene, the tired, loving mother and the bouncing brat.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Scientific Method and the Average Kindergartener
During my first ever Parent-Teacher conference my eye went down a very long list of categories on my daughter’s kindergarten dossier--most checked in the far right corner....and then I noticed one area of deficit...because REALLY who cares about what the child is doing well in...looking more closely with my mother eagle eye and following my finger across to the category title I found... “Scientific Method.”
I asked the teacher--”Scientific Method?!! The child is five. I would be hard pressed to define ‘Scientific Method.’ How about you?”
The teacher smiled a syrupy, knowing smile and told me not to worry...kindergarten parents are always SO nervous...she will “catch-up. She’s a SINGLE--right?”
I smiled back my best— ‘please-watch-it-I-can-be-a-total-bitch-if-need-be’ smile and said—”I am not worried about The Child...I am worried about the school. I feel at this age the main goal should be playing nicely with others followed by learning colors, shapes and maybe finger painting. So..back to Scientific Method—what is YOUR definition?”
“Oh...oh...”stumbled the suddenly non-condescending teacher..”you know photosynthesis... that sort of thing.”
“Hmmm...seems a little vague...but don’t worry—I am sure you will catch-up.”
I asked the teacher--”Scientific Method?!! The child is five. I would be hard pressed to define ‘Scientific Method.’ How about you?”
The teacher smiled a syrupy, knowing smile and told me not to worry...kindergarten parents are always SO nervous...she will “catch-up. She’s a SINGLE--right?”
I smiled back my best— ‘please-watch-it-I-can-be-a-total-bitch-if-need-be’ smile and said—”I am not worried about The Child...I am worried about the school. I feel at this age the main goal should be playing nicely with others followed by learning colors, shapes and maybe finger painting. So..back to Scientific Method—what is YOUR definition?”
“Oh...oh...”stumbled the suddenly non-condescending teacher..”you know photosynthesis... that sort of thing.”
“Hmmm...seems a little vague...but don’t worry—I am sure you will catch-up.”
Friday, January 2, 2009
Mommy's Favorite Food
Pregnancy starts the process of public humiliation for mothers...people gawking at you, perfect strangers wanting to rub your body, telling you their opinion of how you should raise the fetus and the whole birth process...oh my god. I don’t care what people say—it is NOT beautiful.
But it took me a few years of being a mother before it really dawned on me that the embarrassment will never stop and you just have to go with the flow.
I think my first inkling of this new reality was when I went to fetch The Beast at the little German preschool many years ago. I was greeted by two beautiful German “assistant teachers” that the head mistress of the school imported each year to ensure full father participation in school activities. The annoyingly perky girls said the children were making books about their families and each child answered questions and the German girls wrote down the responses to go with the child’s pictures...But they were having a hard time, so to speak, with what my daughter described as my “favorite food.” “
They said with their slight, sexy German accents, ”Guess...guess vat she said YOUR favorite food vas?”
I said, “I cannot imagine since I have only been drinking coffee and beer since the day we brought the little monster home from the hospital....as far as I can remember...”
They smiled again with their perfect white teeth and eager Teutonic faces and asked The Beast to come over--”tell us again vat your mommy’s favorite food is.”
“PENIS!” The Beast announced triumphantly...of course...this was just the beginning of many, many explanations to come...
I told the hysterical girls...that although penis is always a treat, the child is actually trying to say GUINNESS. Guinness....which is, indeed, Mommy’s favorite drink/food.
Such a smart little girl, but pronunciation is not her strong suit.
But it took me a few years of being a mother before it really dawned on me that the embarrassment will never stop and you just have to go with the flow.
I think my first inkling of this new reality was when I went to fetch The Beast at the little German preschool many years ago. I was greeted by two beautiful German “assistant teachers” that the head mistress of the school imported each year to ensure full father participation in school activities. The annoyingly perky girls said the children were making books about their families and each child answered questions and the German girls wrote down the responses to go with the child’s pictures...But they were having a hard time, so to speak, with what my daughter described as my “favorite food.” “
They said with their slight, sexy German accents, ”Guess...guess vat she said YOUR favorite food vas?”
I said, “I cannot imagine since I have only been drinking coffee and beer since the day we brought the little monster home from the hospital....as far as I can remember...”
They smiled again with their perfect white teeth and eager Teutonic faces and asked The Beast to come over--”tell us again vat your mommy’s favorite food is.”
“PENIS!” The Beast announced triumphantly...of course...this was just the beginning of many, many explanations to come...
I told the hysterical girls...that although penis is always a treat, the child is actually trying to say GUINNESS. Guinness....which is, indeed, Mommy’s favorite drink/food.
Such a smart little girl, but pronunciation is not her strong suit.
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