"Did something shrink in the dryer?" she asked with a smile and a wink.
I smiled back. "No, just gained a few pounds, that's all."
"I was just trying to give you an --"
I cut her off. "I know, I know." I smiled and walked away.
I don't sugarcoat things. I tell it like it is.
I don't see any reason to apologize for things that nearly everybody does.
This includes admitting that I'm not a perfect parent.
I sometimes lose my patience when really maybe I should be noticing just how smart my kids are in their quest to ask eleventy-two questions about an ambulance (that passed 10 minutes ago), and that, yes, they're right -- its siren sounds JUST LIKE a car alarm. I just wish they didn't feel the need to provide just so many examples of that siren.
If they're wearing sweats and a t-shirt for the day, I sometimes happily suggest that they're already in "cozies" and maybe they just might want to sleep in those clothes, too.
Some Saturday mornings I hype the kids up about from-the-can cinnamon rolls while I make them and that's all I serve for breakfast. Its good for you cuz I baked it, dammit.
Other nights we have PB&J for dinner. And I don't apologize for it.
Oprah dedicated an entire show a week or so ago (the "Dooce" episode) to the embracing the real truths of motherhood. Moms from across the country admitted to all sorts of things, from peeing in a diaper while on a long road trip (I so would have blogged that) to the amount of time it took them to love their babies after they were born.
I know this it may not come so easily to everyone, but why are we so afraid to admit these things?
NO ONE is perfect.
NO ONE has all the answers.
Why can't we just laugh about our downfalls along the way?
Cuz you know what? When my kids are making irritating noises in the backseat, I know that I can "out-siren" them both. It makes them stop dead in their tracks and giggle.
I have just a wee bit less laundry some days -- it makes up for the days they insist on taking pair after pair of socks off their feet and stuffing them God knows where (probably so that they can be "found" later while playing Dirty Jobs), but, eh...whatever. The laundry will never be caught up anyhow.
I can tell by the way they fight over who gets to stand on the kitchen stool that making those sweet rolls with Momma is pretty much the highlight of their week. (Whoever doesn't get the stool gets to sit directly in front of the stove and watch them cook. I am a genius, no?)
And if you give them raisins (which you've somehow convinced them are really candy and that they only get if they're really really good) and milk with PB&J, then dude, you hit like all the food groups and you didn't have to cook a damn thing.
I sometimes sit and think about all the ways my parents screwed up as I was growing up -- some of them were pretty darn major ways, in fact -- and I still turned out to be a fully functioning member of society. I own a home, I have a job, I'm pretty darn near well balanced. (Most days.)
The minor gaffs from day to day will most likely go unnoticed.
There's no way you'll really know until they're fully grown, of course, but I'm sure your kids will notice your attitude along the way.
Now - come clean. What did YOU do this week that may not have been perfect?
I promise to only laugh out of love.
Go over to Carrie's place for more wicked awesome photos with a story behind them!