Parenting: 101

I am a horrible mother. No, don’t try to convince me otherwise. I know it’s the truth.


Oh, I’m not talking about letting Evan eat peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast…or fixing Ramen Noodles and hotdogs for Ethan when time is crunched. (He ASKS for it – I swear!) Or letting the boys occasionally go to bed without brushing their teeth. Oh chill. I said OCCASIONALLY.

I am talking more about being a horrible mother to Max. I have wasted 17 years (…204 months…6323 days…151,776 hours…okay, you get the picture!)...when I could have been embarrassing him on a regular basis, giving his a buttload of ‘oh whoa is me, my mother is whacked’ stories to garner sympathy from the sympathetic coeds. OH NO! What does he get instead? A super cool mom that has a cool job, watches Cougar Town with him, that doesn’t make fun of him in front of his friends or brings out baby pictures to show his girlfriend. (Damn. I have been looking and looking for that picture of him when he was two, wearing my high heels and his diaper. Don’t worry, Evan and Ethan….Mommy still has all of your incriminating photos!) I mean, there may have been a handful of embarrassing moments scattered along the way…like the plethora of husbands (or two), the couple of on air moments…OH – like when he had to play his trombone on the morning show and then we used it as a sound effect! (oh wait, he thought that was cool!), calling him HONEY while he was on the ball field…having THE TALK with him, handing him a condom and asking him if he knew how to put it on cuz I was willing to grab the banana off the counter and show him…but nothing that he can write a convincing story about in a freshman composition class.

It is our duty as parents, to have at least ONE moment that our children can refer to when they are having a ‘don’t our parents suck’ conversation with their friends. Max? All he has is, “Dude, they made my mom talk kinda sexy on the air…yeah, she’s a dj…but listen! I was listening and I was all like Dude, that’s my MOM…sure, she’s not bad looking for a mom, I guess…but you’re not listening! Okay, fine. I’ll ask her to give you a shout-out. Geez.”

Do you see why I am a horrible mother?

I have one year to fix this. I need to give my child the angst he deserves. He needs stories…and stories he shall have.

Even if I have to make them up.