There is much humor to be found in horrific parenting fails. Like buying Bunchems, for instance (see our Instagram). But because today is mother’s day and I just narrowly avoided spilling conditioner into my shower beer (don’t judge, it was slippery) i am feeling like a winner at life and so, for my increasingly disinterested readership, I’m celebrating my very brief list of parenting wins.
- Today, my children are both dressed like blind, drunk clowns. Some parents might consider this laziness on my part. I’ve seen the pinteresting children in their military inspired coats and high waisted jeans and sunglasses nicer than mine. I know these things are possible. I know a kid can rock an updo with more swagger than I have on the average Thursday. But I’m in it to win it in the long haul and I have daughters. So every time they ask to wear something stupid I just shrug and say, “I’d recommend this more appropriate thing, but ultimately, it’s your body.” Because it is. If she thinks jeans are uncomfortable, who am I to tell her different. It’s her body, she’s the boss of it. I say it so often, it’ll be eye-roll worthy soon, but if she remembers that when boys happen…well, that’s psych 101 at work. I may regret this one briefly in the tattoo years.
- We were watching Neil Degrasse Tyson say something brilliant and I started to say something along the lines of “Holy shit that guy is so smart,” but I stopped myself at the last and said, instead. “I love that guy. He is so CURIOUS.” There was more to it, of course, because I can’t stop talking even when I’m done talking, but I felt pretty damned clever for that little twist. Smart is a judgment call, but curious? Anyone can be curious. Curious is, to me, more important than smart anyways. Just ask Alice.
- Lastly (but also firstly) I felt like a goddamn genius when the Madness was in that “point at the odd person and say something insulting super loud” phase kids go through. I told her, anytime you see someone really interesting and you feel the need to draw my attention, say the nicest thing you can think of about that person. Or, if we’re close to that person, I said, you can simply say “Hi! I like your (shirt/shoes/hair)” and rest assured I will notice, and we can discuss it later. This training culminated in a moment in line at a diner, standing behind the largest woman we’d ever seen, when Madz started to say something and my father, in a panic, practically knocked her over to cut her off. Madz looked up at him, insulted, and said, “I was going to say I like that lady’s DRESS. It’s a pretty dress, dontcha think gramps!?”
That’s it. This mothering thing is stupid hard and it’s often impossible to tell if you’re doing it correctly. I say, laugh at the fails, sure, but don’t forget to raise a shower beer in honor of those odd moments when you’re killing it.
Here’s to you, moms; may your successes be many, and your failures be worked out with competent therapists.