I am a perfect mother. No really, I am.
Doesn't every mother, every parent wish they could say that and actually have it be true? I certainly wish I could, but the most I can say right now is that I do my best, and sometimes that just isn't good enough. And I always find myself comparing my parenting skills to that of the hippy chick in the park or the hoity toity mom in the supermarket or the stressed looking mama trying to wrangle the kids into the car just so that they can get home for some quiet time.
Why do we do this as parents? I think us mothers are more guilty of it than anyone, but it seems to be a universal trait attributed to anyone who has the
misfortune pleasure of have at least one spawnlet cruising around the house. I have been in groups where all the women do is talk about other moms and how awful their parenting is.
"Oh did you see her yesterday, she was letting little Timmy drink pop. MY kids won't be getting any pop til he's 30, and that's only if he can keep his basement room clean"
"I heard she let's the kids watch more than an hour of tv a day. Those are the kids that will getting remedial classes come high school"
You know the drill. We've all heard it, and I'm sure if most of us were honest we'd admit to actually doing it on occasion. I was especially guilty of it when Ash was a baby. I thought it was something I had to do as a right of passage into parenthood or something. If I didn't do it, I would be shunned by all the other mamas at the overcrowded disorganized playgroup. Truth is, the minute I got up and walked away from the group doing the gossiping...they'd be talking about me. So, as I have progressed down the road in the last 6 years, I have tried to be better about not doing those things anymore. Well, not often.
One thing I can tell you though, is that I am a much better parent than my husband. Well duh!
It's not a case of my form of discipline being better (it is), or me being more fun (I am) or even the fact that they love me more than him (they do). I know I am a better parent purely because my children get injured faaaar more often when in his care than in mine.
When Ash was about 18 months old, I decided to take advantage of the fact that Hotty Hubby was home on a weekend and go get my hair done while he took her to the park. 2 hours later, I had the most fantastic hair ever with awesome highlights & lowlights, all straightened and framing my face beautifully. I could never have predicted how awesome I'd look...ummm.....where was I? Oh, 2 hours later H.H showed up to retrieve me before I spent a couple hundred more dollars and before I could even utter a hello he was launching into a spiel about how sorry he was and it wasn't really his fault - all while shielding her behind his legs. When she was finally allowed to peek out from behind him, I understood. My poor baby girl had her face all scraped up with bits of gravel still embedded in it. Seems H.H had stood behind her on each trip up the ladder to the slide and she had no problem. So he went to sit down for the 9th try. It would be on this attempt that she fell. Backwards. Onto her face.
"But it's ok cos there was a nurse there who checked and her neck isn't broken"
Gee you think?
Or the time that I went out for a movie with friends and returned to see him standing in the hallway all twitchy, waiting for me to open the door. "I'm so sorry. It wasn't my fault. I told her to stop". She'd pulled a cupboard (that I'd asked him to secure to the wall a
million zillion few times) and it had tipped, sending a very heavy candle holder down onto her head.
"But it's ok cos I put a bandaid on her and sent her to bed"
Um. Not so much honey. See that gash there? That requires stitches.
Or the time that we had friends over (about 20 of them) for a bbq party in our new house and I left to go pick up beer so that I didn't have to deal with all the kids anymore (priorities people!). 15 minutes later I returned to hear "HIDE THE BOY!! She's back!!"
Lots of scurrying, some whimpering from CJ, and "I'm so sorry! It wasn't my fault! He just FELL!" CJ fell of the kid's picnic table in the backyard and smacked his eye. Big, swollen, black & blue.
"But it's ok cos I put some ice on it and fed him some pop!"
See? I am the better parent. When they are in MY care they just fall backwards off bus stop benches and crack their skulls, walk along the backs of couches & fall off onto hardwood floors and fracture their arms, bounce on their beds and crack their jaws on the headboard when they fall, or run out in front of cars multiple times.
What kinds of interesting injuries have your children had? And who is the better parent?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I am a perfect mother. No really, I am.