by, Kasie West
Now that’s a title to be proud of. My seven-year-old daughter bestowed it upon me a couple of months ago when I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. The exchange went something like this:
“Mom, can I have a brownie?” she asked with the look in her eye that told me she had already had several without asking. It didn’t help her case that several bits of crumbled brownie clung to her lower lip.
“How many have you had?” I asked.
The sweet smile, which she had plastered on her face in her attempt to con me, immediately turned into a scowl accompanied by an eye roll.
“No, you don’t need any more,” I assured her.
“Fine, then is it my turn on the computer?” she asked, pointing to her sister who, obviously hearing the exchange, yelled,
“I just got on!"
“Go set the timer and you can have a turn in ten minutes,” I said, in my best attempt at diplomacy.
That’s when the rage set in. Her hands flew to her hips, her foot stomped angrily on the floor, and drawing on all the powers of indignation that a seven year old could possibly muster, she screamed, “You are the worst mother in the history of all mothers!"
Maybe I shouldn’t have been, but I was impressed. In the entire history of mother’s, I was the worst? I had never been given such an absolute title before. I felt proud. “Thank you,” I said sincerely.
That was the wrong response. Her lips pursed, her nose wrinkled, her arms became stiff boards at her sides, ending in her tightly clenched fists. “NO!” she wailed, before running up the stairs and shutting herself in her room.
Ever since that day, I have tried my hardest to live up to my title. I wouldn’t want to let her down. It’s worth it for those days when the Sunday School teacher or her Second Grade teacher tell me that she is one of the most well behaved children in class. The worst mother in the history of all mothers must be doing something right. And occasionally, when she offers me an unasked for hug or cuddles up next to me on the couch, I sigh happily. Perhaps she hadn't really meant “in the entire history of mothers”.
Nice to meet you, Worst Mother. I am otherwise-known-as "meanest mother" because I have the ever loving nerve to send my child to school when she does not want to go (pause for dramatic gasp). This title was bestowed on me from the same child who actually began rolling her eyes at me when she was 18 months old.
ReplyDeleteRolling her eyes at 18 months? Now that's a talent. Does she have older sisters? Because that would explain it all right there. :) Nice to meet you too, btw.
ReplyDeleteLOL, you're doing a fine job when kidlets tell you that. If you want to make yours feel better, refer them to the photo of myself (The craziest, meanest mother on the planet) in today's post and tell them, "See...at least I don't humiliate you like THAT mother.") I got my title not too long ago when informed that my 16-, 17-, and 18-y-o's were the only children alive who didn't have text messaging. hehe Love your blog!
ReplyDeleteangie,
ReplyDeleteYou actually inspired my post today. When I was leaving you a comment on your blog, I almost told you a condensed form of this story and then I thought, 'you know what, I'll put the story on my blog'. So thanks for giving me the thought. And I loved the picture of you at your son's game in your costume. Awesome! :)
Kasie
I have a feeling that's a story and title that will be repeated thruout the years, with a twinkle in the eye!
ReplyDeleteJoanne, I think you're right. It's only been a few months and the story has already been told half a dozen times. As for the title, I've had that one and several variations thrown my way since. Sigh. What am I going to do when my three daughters turn into teenagers? Does anyone have a basement or bomb shelter I can hide out in for a few years? :)
ReplyDeleteI love it! How has your child learned about all these mother's (that you are being compared to) in so few years of living? Genius! Sorry that you are the worst mother, I'm sure Hunter will top that when he gets older. I'll not only be the worst mother in the history of all mothers but I'll also not even be his "REAL" mother. I'm already preparing mentally so that I won't go into deep despair when that happens. BTW, I think the "lame" mothers are the ones that actually go roller skating so you are still very cool. P.S. It helps to look skinnier when the picture is taken FAR Far away. If you saw a close up, you wouldn't have been so kind. :)
ReplyDeleteWhat can I say? We only breed geniuses around here. Very sassy geniuses. :)
ReplyDeleteGuilty as charged
ReplyDeleteHow's your writing going this week
ReplyDeleteI'm honored to know you! I've never been the worst in the ENTIRE world at anything that I know of, but that gives me something to work towards:)
ReplyDeleteNicki,
ReplyDeleteI'll help you find out what you're the worst at if you'd like. That will be a fun journey of discovery...hmmm where should we start? LOL Love ya. Can't wait to see you in 2 weeks and 2 days!!!!!!!! Can you tell I'm excited???
Yes, we will have to try and discover that in two weeks:) I can't wait!!!!
ReplyDeleteYour 7-year-old sounds like my 5-year-old daughter, who's equally as dramatic. :) But I agree, a firm hand and structure are crucial at this age, instead of a parent who handles things as a best friend might. Good for you!
ReplyDelete