Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I am an awesome mom... the mood swing edition

A belated ode to myself on Mother's Day. Coincidentally, as of yesterday, May 11, I have been a mother for 23 years. Carlie is by no means the first victim of my parenting. Go Maggy! Way to age!
Happy Birthday, eldest one

LAZIEST MOM EVER: Woke up on time, but dicked around on Facebook to the point of being OMG WE'RE LATE late this morning.

GROSSEST MOM EVER: Eight minutes past the time we normally leave for school, I left the house wearing dirty yoga pants picked up off of the floor, over my nightgown, which I tucked into the yoga pants, and then put on my disgusting red sweatshirt over the top (more on that later). And flip flops. And yesterday's mascara. And a giant tangled knot of hair on the back of my head. Doesn't matter, I'm just dropping her off anyway. Famous last words.

MEANEST MOM EVER: Made Carlie were socks that "don't work" for her. And then scolded her for the less-than-two-mile drive to school about the fact that she JUST CLEANED OUT HER DRESSER, so why does she still have anything in there that "doesn't work"? (And on an unrelated/related somewhat note: This child has had sock issues since she was 18 months old. ENOUGH ALREADY with the effing socks.)

AWESOMEST MOM EVER aka ENABLER MOM: Clandestinely snuck into Carlie's school (see outfit above) and stole a pair of socks from the "I peed my pants" stash of spare clothes. Wherein *clandestinely* = we were in the dark stealing socks and some helpful passer-by popped in and said, "You could use some light" and turned on the damned light and totally outed us on our covert mission.

We're moving in TEN DAYS. My current Facebook status reads: I've passed the point of panic and have settled into mellow acceptance of the fact that it is all going to go horribly wrong. And that? Is not a joke.

UPDATE: My disgusting sweatshirt is over 20 years old. It belonged to my mother and somehow came home with me after she died. It is made of the *fur* that stuffed animals are made of, but not, like, beanie baby or webkinz stuffed animals, I mean the stuffed animals you win at the carnival. And, bonus points, it cannot be washed because it has a hole (as being modeled with two fingers sticking out of it) that will get bigger if washed.

6 comments:

Fantastic Forrest said...

I see myself reflected in your story. Alas, it is not a pretty picture.

But your children love you and your husband loves you and I love you, so who gives a hoot?

I must know, however, how the sock-stealing mission turned out. Success? One hopes so.

Tiffany said...

You sound absolutely lovely! :D

Laid-back, easy going moms are the best. Go with it!

Moving will happen one way or the other. No use in panicking... yet!

Diet Buddy said...

Hey, I've actually done the school drop off in pj bottoms...don't kids wear them to class now????

Cat said...

Remember when you were young and hip, and you wondered why old ladies wore old red sweat shirts with holes in them? Now we know.

Keetha said...

Happy mother's day - celebrate it all month.

About that move...hon, I'm hoping for the best.

PS
I'd keep that sweatshirt forever.

katydidnot said...

If Carlie needs to get rid of the socks that don't work? You have to get rid of the red Elmo skin sweatshirt with the hole in it. Fo' real. I'm sending Stacy and Clinton to your house if you move it. Because even though it's from your mom, Stacy and Clinton still won't let you keep it.

I'm kidding. I love it and I have one in brown. A la Snuffleupugus rather than Elmo. And mine isn't even an heirloom.