For the Moms: Remember When?

Last week, my daughter was working on a project for school that required her to complete a scrapbook-like album that included pages for family, friends, and herself.  She asked for my help regarding specific events/memories from her childhood – she’s 13 now.  She specifically wanted me to share a few funny anecdotes about things she did as a child.

I got to thinking and started to say, “Well, you used to…”.  And then…nothing.  My mind was completely blank.  I swear I couldn’t remember anything specific.  I mean, I remember how she was, characteristics and that sort of thing, but I was honestly struggling to find a story that was scrapbook-worthy.

A complete and total MOM=FAIL if you ask me!  I mean, how could I forget all the cutesy little things she used to do?  The phrases she would say that would completely crack me up?  The questions she would ask?  (And there were plenty of those!)  She was adorable – I do remember that – and I KNOW she’s done some amazingly funny things.  Buy why can’t I remember them?

Am I really getting old – is that it?  Can I really chalk this up to my slowly degenerating brain cells?  Early-onset Alzheimer’s?  Please tell me NO!  I’m her MOTHER for God’s sake!  Surely moms remember this sort of thing.

Then I remembered how I used to ask my mom those very same questions.  “What was I like as a baby?  Did I like mac & cheese as a kid?  Hey – there’s a baby picture.  Was that me, Mom?”  Her answer to me was always an unsure, “I don’t know.”

After hearing that, I remember being so angry…and hurt.  I mean – you’re my mom, how do you not know???  Were you there?  Just didn’t care enough?  What?

And here I was – giving the same responses to my own kid.  How did she feel after I told her that I had trouble coming up with something?  Would she feel any less loved because of it?  I shudder to think that that one conversation could make her feel less…anything.

My little girl...back when she WAS a little girl.

I know one thing for sure – love has nothing to do with it.  I adore that girl.  And I know we had some fantabulous times.  I simply…forgot.  Or misplaced within my memory.  With life, the details simply get lost.  And although I struggle with the minutiae of her childhood, what I will never lose is my love for her.  My baby girl.

So, as we mother’s often do, I vow to make it better…for my lil’ man.  I’ve recently started a journal (my first EVER, btw…didn’t even have one in middle or high school) to chronicle all of his funny, cutesy, and downright hilarious moments.  I’ll even include the melt-downs so he doesn’t read it one day and think he’s perfect. J  Hopefully one day I’ll share some excerpts on the blog.  Stay tuned!

And please tell me some of you have experienced the same thing!  No?  Well tell me you did anyway.

Happy Easter!

Today has been great!  Not much to post, but we started off the morning with a wonderful breakfast of Chorizo & Eggs:

And ended with a fantastic picture of my kids:

I’m not biased or anything, but aren’t they SOOOO cute?!?!

Happy Easter, everyone!

Mommy Guilt Strikes Again: Hard

Yesterday I was angry.  Really angry.  I’m not much of a morning person on any day, but yesterday proved to be more of a challenge than usual.  Crazy mom yelling at 6:30am = bad day for everyone.

It started off with library books.  Something as simple and non-trivial as stupid library books.  According to my daughter’s account, she had a total of 5 books that were due.  So, of course, I asked for them to take them back after work.  She slowly walks out of her room with ONE.  WTF…ONE?  Where were the other four?

She told me earlier in the week that she lent one to one of her friends, who promised to return the book on time.  Already, I was upset with that one.  Then…slowly…she reveals that her friend had two.  Then three.  I was furious!

How irresponsible can you be? If she doesn’t take them back, guess who pays the late charges.  Yeah, me.

And let’s not forget the fact that loaning out library books that aren’t yours is the least of her issues.  Irresponsibility spreads further than the library.  She never cleans up her stuff left in the kitchen or family room without someone having to tell her more than once.  Never cleans her room. Takes my things (sweaters, jewelry, makeup) without asking…

Again, all of this adds up to one angry momma at 6:30 in the morning!

Then, after I’d already left for work, I get a call saying that she feels sick.

@!#$%@^&*()*!!Q!!

It seems like she’s sick every week.  Always – her stomach hurts, her throat hurts, something.  And it usually amounts to nothing. I was thisclose to making her go to school.  The only reason I didn’t was because if she did end up going to the nurse, the school won’t let her walk home alone. Someone (i.e. me) would have to pick her up. I work an hour away from home so that just wouldn’t do. So, she stayed home.

Here’s where the mommy guilt creeps in.

I take her temp when I get home from work and…103.8.

This time she really was sick.  And I feel like crap.

Feeling like crap for giving her a hard time.  Feeling like crap because I didn’t believe her.  Feeling like crap for not checking her before I left.

Just an all-around craptastic day.

So I tell myself – next time I will believe her.  Next time I’ll try to be more understanding.  Next time I will try to hold my tongue before flying off the handle.

All things I will do the next time around.

So as I sit at home today, administering meds every four hours and making sure she’s ok, I will try to not let this guilt consume me and know that next time I’ll be different. Better.

MeMeMe Mondays

I’ve seen a few variations of this ME concept on other sites and thought I’d take a stab at it.  (Imitation is the best form of flattery, right?)  Every Monday I’ll let you know three random things that are all about me.  I’m new to the wonderful world of blogging so thought I’d give the folks who check out my site a few tidbits about yours truly.  (‘Cuz you know you’re dying to know. LOL!)

1.)   I think I have an addiction to ChapStick.  No, really.  Addicted is not an exaggeration.  I apply and re-apply all day long.  Once, I realized I lost my ChapStick on my way to work and PROMPTLY drove to a Walgreens to buy another.  30 minutes late to work.  Whatever, I needed my balm fix!

2.)  I hate that when I wear expensive clothes, no one notices.  But when I wear something I bought at Target, I get compliments all day long.  This one really aggravates me!  And I don’t mean Bloomingdales expensive…but definitely more than $50 on a top.  Not a single comment.  Target dress = high praises.

3.)  This week is my daughter’s 12th birthday.  You might think this has nothing to do with me but, after 7 hours of labor, I can assure you it does!  Happy birthday baby girl!  Momma wubs you!!!

Peeved Out: Yu Can Writ 2

Can you understand this? 

skool sukked i waz soo tired all day i mean y do ppl wanna go ta skool so bad i get to see mii frayndz outta skool lol!!!

 No?  How about this one?

makinggg many different dilicious cookies wt miii grama nd mii fraynd also doinqq sme last minute gift wrapping still gots lots 2 do nd x-mas Eve is 2marroe yilkkerz i thnk i can make it cross urr fingaz…!!!!

Still having a hard time?  Here’s one more:

Hellow mommy Buyyyy sum cerealllll peez cinimon tost crunch fruuut luupps butter nd choc frosteed flaks peez

 These are actual FB posts and text messages I’ve received from my daughter.  My almost 12-year-old daughter.  Straight-A student daughter.  Yeah, her.

You want to talk pet peeves?  There’s mine.  Right there.

Don’t get me wrong…she knows how to spell.  She certainly didn’t receive straight-A’s with that kind of grammar!  But she says that’s how kids communicate now.  Unbelieveable!  Well, I’ve finally learned of a way to combat her “wrtng sklllzz” by simply not replying to anything written improperly.  Just call me the Grammar Police!  Hmpf!

So, maybe my peeve has more to do with this generation of kids growing up than my daughter’s disdain for proper English.  Ummm, nah…it’s both.  Makes me so angry.  This can’t be the future of our language.

So, Miss-Y – it’s time you cracked open the dictionary, start loving those vowels, and show your “friends” the real way we use the English language.

Or you, my dear, will be getting a can of alphabet soup for your birthday.

 I wrote this post for Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop in response to Prompt #1: One pet peeve that shouldn’t drive you crazy, but does.  It drives me NUTS!
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