Actually, I'm not, it's just that sometimes my kids make me feel that way. You know, when I'm being totally NOT FAIR and MEAN because I asked them to...oh, I don't know... GET DRESSED for school. Or maybe I asked that they tear down (and put away) their 10 foot high volcano of furniture, Lego boxes, Ken doll legs, playing cards and stuffed tigers. Or when I ask them to brush their teeth...having already asked 4 times previously, with an elapsed time of 5 minutes between nice, friendly, polite asking. Us mothers, man, are we HARSH!
Never mind that I let them have treats which I shouldn't have, including our new morning tradition of sharing a massive commuter mug of coffee (made with instant, and made with Sweet and Low! Oh the horrors!) on the way to school. Or the fact that I will move hell and high water to make sure they get what they need. You know, like a roof over their heads and pants that fit and exactly the right outfit for the dress-up parade. All of this goes out the window the very second I become the unreasonable, horrible, you-made-me-cry Mummy ... because I dared comment that it seems to take them 45 minutes to put on their school uniforms, but 2.3 seconds to get into PJ's so they don't miss one second of the Backyardigans.
Here are a few more reasons why I am a mean Mummy:
- I ask them to eat some sort of protein at dinner. No, tortillas are not protein.
- I ask them to brush their hair in the morning. You know, so that the other mothers don't think I'm neglectful. I have a reputation to uphold!
- I ask them to re-brush their hair, only this time with an actual hairbrush and not their fingers.
- I act somewhat exasperated when they spill their milk, all over the dinner table, AGAIN.
- I expect them to call me by Mum, Mummy, Mama, or variations on a theme, but not my first name. I earned this parenthood gig (with injections, money, emotional upheaval and a c-section scar.) Dammit, I want to be MUM. I'm the parent, I'm not your friend.
- I politely, nicely, steel-pins-in-my-voice ask them to please, PLEASE stop leaning on me so hard it feels as though my arm will break off.
- I remind them that picking one's nose and then using the same finger to lick icing off a cake is just, you know, gross.
So - humour me - How have YOU been a Mean Mommy today? (Comments welcome. Don't pretend like you weren't mean. Seriously. No need to pretend. We're all friends here.)
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emzee housekeeping: Go read some articles over here because I wrote some recently, and Three Sweeties now has a home (!) so expect more news on that front, and for two nights running the children have not eaten dinner from a square box with a picture of a guy named Luigi on the front. Yay me!
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5 comments:
Well I'm not equipped to be a mommy, but I have done all sorts of horrible things lately. I prevented Ava from grabbing our dog's eyes. That merited a minute or two of thrashing and screaming on the floor.
ROFLMAO! You know, in some countries, dog's eyes are probably a delicacy. Sadly, not so nice for the dog. :)
((hugs)) Cam. Keep that dog safe from prying fingers!
This mean Mummy removed all debris from daughter's room (two garbage bags full) and dumped it in the garage. When daughter found she had no school socks, sports uniform, rollerblades, half eaten tim tams, I simply shrugged my shoulders and indicated that her stuff would be returned next time she was asked to tidy her room and did it!
Do you think that the kids whose parents let them eat fruit loops for dinner and stay up past bedtime just wish they could have brocolli and early bed, like all the others?
Kat: LOL, please remind me of that one when my kids turn into pre-teens. It's priceless. :)
TBW: I've often wondered about that. Certainly the friends I had whose parents were laid-back hippy types seemed to really enjoy coming to my house for dinner! :) Maybe it's a case of the grass always being greener...
- em
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