I love my BBFF’s (Bloggy Best Friends Forever), but I also have some friends in real life. Granted my friend Shauna and I haven’t seen each other in 5 years and before that it was probably ten years, she is still my friend IRL (In Real Life.)
Wow. You are learning lots today, eh?
Shauna is not a blogger, but she is absolutely killer with her Facebook Statuses. She slays me. Here is an example ;
Trying to teach Christy what to do if there’s an emergency:
Christy: I pick up the phone and press 9-1-1 and then the Talk button.
Me: Right! And then they’ll ask your name.
Christy: Christy Boo Smith
Me: Not Boo. That’s just what we call you. Say Christy Jay Smith. And where do you live?
Christy: Down the street.
And this is the point in the conversation where I hope I’m never lying unconscious somewhere when Christy’ss home.
Welcome Shauna to Mommy’s Weird.
p.s You will love her because she says asshole. And I am sure after all the attention she gets in her small town she will start a blog by tomorrow morning.
Parenting Moment #3,296 – Fail
My oldest child. He will be 15 in a couple of weeks. He just started high school. When your son is in middle school it’s easy to forget how old he really is. At the beginning of grade 8 lunch bags are still cool, they still wrestle with their friends and snow boots are still a welcome part of winter attire. They’re like 10 year olds. But with facial hair.
Fast forward to summer. Suddenly I have an almost 15 year old – all 5 feet 10 inches, 156 pounds of him. How did I miss this?? Asking to go to the lake for the long weekend. Asking if he can hang out with his friends till 2 am. His Facebook page now hosts a variety of comments from girls saying things like “TBH – your super funny and cute. Rate: 8/10, Date: maybe 😉 ”.
They’ve gone from smiley faces to winking. It looks so dirty. Jesus.
I miss the little ragamuffin he used to be.
My son really struggled with school when he was younger. I should have been a teacher. Because nothing but a teaching degree with a major in Math could have prepared me for the time and patience it would take to sit through the homework that came home. Every. Bloody. Night. A certain grade in elementary school was particularly rough for him. Not only was the work a huge obstacle, but the teacher was about 20 years past her retirement. She just had no idea how to work with a kid that needed so much help. She was – to be honest – an asshole. A large part of me still wants to close her head in her mailbox repeatedly every time I see her in the post office.
After one very trying day my son came home completely frustrated. I can still remember him sitting at the kitchen counter with his blonde head in his little hands. Trying to tell me what had happened.
“My teacher…she just…I don’t know…she treats me like….she treats me like a WHORE!”
He said horse right?? I just didn’t hear him. Horse. Had to be horse. Work horse maybe? Please god, when I ask him to repeat that – please make it be horse.
I try not to look alarmed. “She treats you like what?”
“Like a WHORE!”
Oh Jesus. It was whore. He said whore. Clearly he does not know what a whore is but how does he even know that word?! Mentally I start cataloguing all of the
movies he watches and the video games he plays. Which ones do I need to throw out? How did I miss this?
What kind of a mother am I???
I don’t remember exactly what I said. How do you begin to explain what a whore is to a little boy?
What I do remember is feeling like that could have been a learning moment. And where I should have been choosing words carefully and impressing upon his little male brain that the word whore is awful on so many levels, I was stuttering and stammering. I had nothing. Fail.
I tried not to beat myself up about it. That moment seems like a lifetime ago. He’s nearly 15 now. He’s a good kid, with a big heart. I’ve muddled through and managed so far not to completely ruin him. I know all parents have their fail moments. I have three kids. I like to think over the years the successes have exceeded the fails.
A while ago my 4 year old daughter and I were watching a really nice Youtube video of a guy who had an amazing singing voice, but had no arms. She says to me: “Ooohh he’s a really good singer! And you know, if we were eating lunch together I would open his lunchbox and hold his sandwich for him so he could eat it.”
Win! I’ll take it. 🙂