Can A Reluctant Adult Be a Parent?
Happy Mother's Day!
And yeah, I'm a mom. Heck, I'm a freaking soccer mom, as yesterday proved: the Precious Little Tax Deductions both had their soccer games (at two different places), AND their team soccer photos. My boys kicked a...--um, tush--and Loving Husband and I are so proud of them. I can't believe these little people popped out of me.
Then again, there are times when I can, because they know how to push all the buttons--and, if you believe Jackie's Mom (yeah, I know, I don't trust anyone over 40 either), I, shockingly, was a handful.
From yesterday, an example of my kids being very good at being six and four:
PRECIOUS LITTLE TAX DEDUCTIONS THE ELDER AND YOUNGER: **Throwing a super bounce ball in Tax Deduction the Elder's room and banging it hard enough to make the walls vibrate**
ME: I'm going to kill them.
LOVING HUSBAND: Don't do that.
PLTDTEAY: **Bang, crash, emphasized with maniacal laughter**
ME: I'm going to kill them slowly. Painfully. I may even feel guilty about it for minutes afterwards.
LH: I'll handle this. **Walks to TDTE's room and glares with all the power of Daddyhood**
TDTE: What?
LH: I'll take the ball now.
TDTY: **Hands LH the ball**
TDTE: I've got another one, you know.
So for those parents out there who are also reluctant adults, I give you...
WAYS A PARENT CAN STILL BE A KID:
Watch cartoons. Yeah, we had the classics back then -- forget the original Bugs Bunny, I'm talking Smurfs! And who could forget "Thunder, thunder, thunder, Thundercats"? But there's a lot of cool stuff these days too, like The Batman (not to be confused with Batman), and Ben Ten, and The Legion of Super Heroes. (Oh Lightning Lad, with your wicked scar and your sexay, sexay red hair...)
Play games. And not just soccer and basketball, even though those count. We love destroying each other in Sorry (yeah, yeah, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, blah blah. Take no prisoners!) And Chutes and Ladders can be evil, baby. Evil!
Listen to music. Imagine, if you will, my four year old belting out "Who, who, who?" to "Who Let the Dogs Out". Or my six year old, snapping along to "Mambo Number Five." I'm telling you, these boys are ready for college. (Er, no. No they're not. No college. And no dating. And no reading my books. Okay, I digress...)
And of course, there's...
WAYS A PARENT CAN FEEL REALLY FREAKING OLD:
Watch cartoons. Specifically, Pokemon. WTF? Is this seriously a cartoon? ZOMG. Now I understand why my parents would roll their eyes when I would watch Battle of the Planets. It has to be a generational thing, because Pokemon makes no freaking sense, in any language.
Play games. Specifically, computer games. What does it say about me that my four year old is better at every computer game than I am? (And no, "Early onset arthritis" is not an option, thank you very much. Don't you sass me, it's Mother's Day.)
Listen to music. Specifically, on the radio. There's nothing like singing along to a killer tune from your youth, feeling darn good and nostalgic and all sorts of happy...and then the DJ gleefully announces at the end of the killer tune that it is 30 years old.
(Okay, so maybe I shouldn't trust anyone over 50...)
So what are you doing to still be a kid, even though you're also (reluctantly) an adult?
And yeah, I'm a mom. Heck, I'm a freaking soccer mom, as yesterday proved: the Precious Little Tax Deductions both had their soccer games (at two different places), AND their team soccer photos. My boys kicked a...--um, tush--and Loving Husband and I are so proud of them. I can't believe these little people popped out of me.
Then again, there are times when I can, because they know how to push all the buttons--and, if you believe Jackie's Mom (yeah, I know, I don't trust anyone over 40 either), I, shockingly, was a handful.
From yesterday, an example of my kids being very good at being six and four:
PRECIOUS LITTLE TAX DEDUCTIONS THE ELDER AND YOUNGER: **Throwing a super bounce ball in Tax Deduction the Elder's room and banging it hard enough to make the walls vibrate**
ME: I'm going to kill them.
LOVING HUSBAND: Don't do that.
PLTDTEAY: **Bang, crash, emphasized with maniacal laughter**
ME: I'm going to kill them slowly. Painfully. I may even feel guilty about it for minutes afterwards.
LH: I'll handle this. **Walks to TDTE's room and glares with all the power of Daddyhood**
TDTE: What?
LH: I'll take the ball now.
TDTY: **Hands LH the ball**
TDTE: I've got another one, you know.
So for those parents out there who are also reluctant adults, I give you...
WAYS A PARENT CAN STILL BE A KID:
Watch cartoons. Yeah, we had the classics back then -- forget the original Bugs Bunny, I'm talking Smurfs! And who could forget "Thunder, thunder, thunder, Thundercats"? But there's a lot of cool stuff these days too, like The Batman (not to be confused with Batman), and Ben Ten, and The Legion of Super Heroes. (Oh Lightning Lad, with your wicked scar and your sexay, sexay red hair...)
Play games. And not just soccer and basketball, even though those count. We love destroying each other in Sorry (yeah, yeah, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, blah blah. Take no prisoners!) And Chutes and Ladders can be evil, baby. Evil!
Listen to music. Imagine, if you will, my four year old belting out "Who, who, who?" to "Who Let the Dogs Out". Or my six year old, snapping along to "Mambo Number Five." I'm telling you, these boys are ready for college. (Er, no. No they're not. No college. And no dating. And no reading my books. Okay, I digress...)
And of course, there's...
WAYS A PARENT CAN FEEL REALLY FREAKING OLD:
Watch cartoons. Specifically, Pokemon. WTF? Is this seriously a cartoon? ZOMG. Now I understand why my parents would roll their eyes when I would watch Battle of the Planets. It has to be a generational thing, because Pokemon makes no freaking sense, in any language.
Play games. Specifically, computer games. What does it say about me that my four year old is better at every computer game than I am? (And no, "Early onset arthritis" is not an option, thank you very much. Don't you sass me, it's Mother's Day.)
Listen to music. Specifically, on the radio. There's nothing like singing along to a killer tune from your youth, feeling darn good and nostalgic and all sorts of happy...and then the DJ gleefully announces at the end of the killer tune that it is 30 years old.
(Okay, so maybe I shouldn't trust anyone over 50...)
So what are you doing to still be a kid, even though you're also (reluctantly) an adult?
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