Sometimes I have to take a step back and reassess my lot in this motherhood gig. My Loud Child is ridiculously smart and is never more than a stern 1,2,3 warning away from timeout thanks to his disastrous mix of curiosity and audacious defiance of the house rules. Today he said this: “Mom, you just don’t unnerstand.” And then he stomped off into the living room where he built a trampoline out of the couch cushions. He wanted to launch himself into space. Literally. I don’t unnerstand. Does this mean I’ve hit that parenting milestone?! Am I out of touch with youth?! Am I now the embarrassing mom person who stalks in the background, lurking to see if Loud Child has changed his underwear or washed his hands or said please? I remember saying this mumbo-jumbo crap to my own mother. And I meant it. I’m not sure I’m ready for this. But then, my child does a lot of crazy stuff around my house. And to be fair, I really do spend an inordinate amount of time threatening the kid to spend eternity in timeout if he doesn’t cutitoutrightnow!! Take for these recent exploits for example:
- Used a plastic baseball bat to whack a mosquito off my leg (ouch!)
- Ran stark naked through the garden because he wanted, “to collect flower dust like the bees and make honey!”
- Poured water into a paper grocery bag to see if it would make the bag float from the inside.
- Climbed up into a window to hoot at the morning doves outside.
- Dumped ALL the clean laundry onto the floor so he could, “build a cozy nest!”
- Told his grandmother that he lives with her now because mom, “won’t let me do whatever I want all day long!”
- Requested that dad explain to mom that, “Ice cream is a for real good-for-you food and I can eat it for dinner because that would make me happy and you’re supposed to want me to be happy, right?!”
- Sprayed me with the flipping garden hose.
- Collected a pile of worms from the garden to make a worm zoo.
- Asked me, “Is Grammy a villain?”
To him, I must seem old and stern. It is true that I am starting to hear my own mother’s voice emanating from my mom voice when I holler my son’s full name. But I don’t feel old. I just feel like I am stuck behind the scenery of Mom Land stuff like wiping bottoms, 73 loads of daily laundry, grocery fetching, rule citing, and heavy sighs.
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