The G-Rated Version of How I Scored

I write lots and tons and loads about how hard it is being a mom. Me: Whine, whine, whine. You: I think you are totally hot and props for being a single mom and all, but stop with the whining already!

Well, you will be very happy to know that this post isn’t going down like that. This one is all about how great I am, although I am knocking on wood at the same time because I realize it can all be taken away if I am too smug. But I’m hardly ever smug (at least about my parenting), so I’m going to brag just a little bit. And then we can go back to my regularly scheduled whining. Or we can talk about Baby Jeebus. Because he is starting to grow!

So, a couple of weeks ago Bugabooga sat down on the couch with a towel on her head and asked, “You know what?” to which my typical response is “Chicken butt.” Then she said, “You know how I used to hate you?” Yes, there was a point in time where my child hated me. And she told me about it. And why. I’d rather not dwell on it. Anyhoo, I said “What? Back to the hate again? Why must you torment me? I’m just sitting here watching Desperate Housewives!!” And then I was given the absolute best gift any child can give their parent. (Unless of course she became super rich and famous and bought me a 7,000 square-foot mansion. Yes, I can be bought. I’m not proud of it. Actually, I might be.)

This is what she said (it deserves its own paragraph): “Well, I used to hate you. But now I realize you are just a single mom doing your best and you’re hard on me because you want me to do well. I know you’re doing your best and I love you. I’m glad you’re my mom.”

And then I got all teary and she asked if I was going to cry and I said yes and she asked why and I said “Mommies don’t like to hear that their babies hate them!” Because I was still stuck on that part. But also because I didn’t know what else to say. It was like one of those movie moments and she had just said the most perfect, most wonderful thing that I never in my life expected and I didn’t have anything equally poignant and meaningful to reply with. And I didn’t want to blow the moment, but I kind of did, but then I thanked her. It was the best I could do.

Exhibit B: Yesterday she got out of school early so I took her to lunch and she BROUGHT HER HOMEWORK IN so we could discuss her English project. I convinced her to switch to honors, promising I would help her, so she wanted to ask if she was on the right track for her book report. In my usual way, I told her to make sure she sounded smart and put more thought into it and to make it sound like she really knew what she was talking about. Especially since I thought the book she read was kind of shallow and simplistic. And then she showed me.

She has to put 5 items related to the book in some type of container, also related to the book. I suggested a purse or a backpack, but she came up with the makeup bag on her own. “Because it’s like they’re really pretty and they wear makeup but it also hides who they really are and all of the secrets they keep. It’s like a mask they’re hiding behind because they’re not really so pretty. And the bag represents the shell they hide in.” Oh. My. God. I was so proud of her I could have peed my pants. But that would have ruined our lunch.

Of course 30 minutes later she was telling me I was ruining her life because I wanted to take her to my friends’ house for dinner. Well, win some, lose some. And lately my wins are bigger than my losses. Go me!