7 hours ago
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Meet my Inner Bad Mommy
As usual, there were a ton of great suggestions on yesterday's post about improv parenting, so, thanks. I also appreciate it whenever one of you comments that I'm a great mom or that I'm so in tune with Max. Only I also end up thinking, "If you only knew...."
Since this is my blog (duh!), I obviously have total control over how I choose to present myself to the world. Believe me, I am by no means The Mother Teresa of Mommies. I am often far, far from it. Here's what I've never told you guys before. (Don't get nervous, I'm not about to confess that I perform satanic rituals or anything, although forcing your kids to like Chef Boyardee is probably up there on the sin list.)
OMG! For years now, I've made the babysitter cut the kids' nails because I get squeamish about it.
OMG! I am so tired—literally and figuratively—of having the kids sleep in my bed that sometimes, if Dave is working late, I'll let the babysitter put the kids to bed. so I don't have anyone kicking me/accidentally whacking me/poking me in the middle of the night with the news flash, "MOMMY, I HAVE TO GO PEE PEE." There is nothing quite like being woken out of a deep slumber with the words, "MOMMY, I HAVE TO GO PEE PEE." (Well, other than, "MOMMY, I WENT PEE PEE ON YOUR BED.")
OMG! When I don't understand what Max is trying to say, I still nod my head and say "Yes, Max!"
OMG! I haven't sorted through the kids toys in the basement for years. I think they probably still have pacifiers down there.
OMG! I have decided that the kids are going to wear last year's Halloween costumes this year. Max is maybe a wee bit old for the Cars costume, Sabrina may be a bit chilly because the Little Mermaid top is belly-baring and she doesn't like to wear a shirt beneath, and I don't care.
OMG! My kids are addicted to Chef Boyardee Sodium-and-Chemical Laden Chicken and Rice and it's all my fault.
OMG! I have let the kids watch a Grossology episode called Fartzilla—yes, Fartzilla—twice in a row in the mornings, just so I can get forty more minutes of sleep.
OMG! When Sabrina says things like, "I don't want Daddy! I want Mommy!" or Max clings to me for dear life and motions Dave away, I am secretly pleased.
OMG! I am still not sure how to operate approximately 71.5 percent of the kids' electronic toys.
OMG! Dave got a scooter during his recent pre-mid-life-crisis phase. This kind:
Lately, I've been fantasizing about my own pre-mid-life crisis, only mine involves getting on an airplane by myself and going to a spa in Italy's Lake Como region, where nobody knows me and nobody wakes me up in the middle of the night saying, "MAMA, VOGLIO ANDARE PEE PEE."
OMG! I've been known to leave the house without critical things like seizure medication/diapers/snacks/patience.
OMG! I've posted updates on the swine flu, yet I have still not called our pediatrician to ask him what he thinks about the kids getting the vaccine.
OMG! When Max spots an airplane and tells me that he wants to go on one, I lie and say "Soon! Very soon!"
OMG! I have put the kids in the car and driven them around for no reason other than 1) I am going stir crazy at home and 2) I like to look at house.
OMG! When Sabrina gets all stubborn and decides she is not going to wear a dress because she'd rather wear her Princess shirt for like the 147th time that week, or Max wants to wear jeans yet again, I get all stubborn right back and boss them into it even though you're supposed to let kids make choices because I'm the Mommy and I said so.
OMG! OMG! Sometimes, I'd rather blog about the kids than play one more game of catch the train or Princess Dominos with them.
Photo from coolpl8z