I’ve decided that being a mom in 2020 is like cliff diving into the deepest part of ocean. It is a thrilling, scary, hold your breath kinda moment. Yet I think, What have I done? It is so much easier back in the shallow end (2019). How do I get back there?
I’m late with my blog this time because my kids were all home this weekend. There’s something magical about them sitting together planning their futures and remembering their past. I act like I’m not paying attention so they will keep on talking. My kids also like to gang up on me. I wait for it because it is inevitable. They love to tease and retell the best stories of their rather recent childhood. One favorite memory is Ella’s infamous field trip in PreK. One evening as I was preparing dinner, Ella began sharing her day- her amazing field trip to the zoo. My double take was fabulous, What field trip? Which zoo? Had I really let my 4-year-old go off out of town without knowing? Or was it without remembering? Ella had our full attention. I was torn between frustration of not being reminded (by who really? It’s my kid.) and pure embarrassment of needing to call her teacher to apologize or sorry shame of calling another mom to verify. I. just. couldn’t. Bob and I sweetly asked her to describe the zoo because there’s one in Albany, Atlanta, and Pine Mountain. We ruled out Atlanta pretty quick because of the time frame. Ella kept talking about wolves. That ruled out Albany. Pine Mountain Animal Safari really sounded like the best option. Elise prodded and questioned trying to make sense of it for us. I cried. MomFail struck again. MomFail- the dreaded moment of cold realization that you have become your mother. We women spend our whole lives remembering those awkward moments that our moms should have spared us from, should have rescued us from, or should have warned us about before we were humiliated. JaJa, my mom, actually informed me that the statute of limitations for blaming your mother for everything expires by the time you are thirty. JaJa is awesome and raised me right. I just like to have an excuse. Many of my close friends have witnessed my finer MomFail moments. Even they couldn’t save me from them. Elise is always quick to remind me as well. She earned that right. Most of them happened to her anyway. Those picture days… even when I thought I was paying attention, I missed them. Poor Elise, sweatshirts and ponytails three years in a row. Not just school- it happened on dance picture day too. Ella caught on fast and never let it happen again. She’s been dressing herself since she was six. Birthday parties…we missed a few and we made a few. I can’t explain it. Poor Dallas and his buzzcuts and matching outfits with Elise. He is still traumatized and has been growing it out ever since he turned 16 and could drive away when we said haircut. He doesn’t like pictures much either. Before I go any further and one of those beloved friends of mine calls me out, I will share the piñata story. In reality, you’ve probably heard about that woman who forgot to put candy in her child’s piñata. It’s legendary. In my defense, the stupid piñata didn’t have a tag, and I had never bought one before. I had only made them. Imagine: 30 five-year old kids taking turns beating the hell out of very large piñata. Imagine the utter disappointment on those precious faces when Bob finally had to break it open for them and nothing – I mean nothing- but air was in side. Elise wailed and a fewer other kids cried too. Bob regarded me with such pity in that moment. We were dating at the time, and he felt sorry for me because he didn’t know better. Every parent of every child was gathered around to watch. I was surrounded. Encircled by the dearest of friends, I held my head high making apologies while a few of them secretly searched the trash for remains of said piñata. The broken parts of it were transformed into centerpieces at our monthly supper club for an entire year. Why would such good friends do that to me? Because they are Georgia fans and that stupid piñata was an Auburn Tiger. That and I’m a Spanish teacher. Ella and her exciting field trip with wolves? You should know better. I started that story with I was cooking dinner. That was your first clue that something was wrong. I actually did call Heather, her teacher. I still hear echoes of her laughter when she told me Ella made the whole thing up. No field trip. No wolves. Yet, it still felt like a MomFail. That’s when Ella earned her nickname Sassafras because you can’t really call your child a sassy ass in public. I don’t regret pushing back work or my late blog post. Spending time with my kids was worth it. That was one MomFail I wasn’t willing to risk.
2 Comments
Jeni
10/28/2020 04:33:24 am
#StillMyFavGoose - a laugh and love and feel the truth of past-and-future in each moment out loud blog... wow... thank you.
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Debbie
10/28/2020 04:29:50 pm
So beautiful. Full of love, laughter and fun!!’ We all have some “mom fails”. Glad you were late for a very good and perfect reason!
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JoAnna Arnold
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