Oh, no? You don’t know those moments? Oh, sorry. I think you’ve come to the wrong blog then. Head to my Pinterest page though where everything looks perfect my Pinterest page though where I make it look like I’m perfect…aI
So… I don’t know if it’s just my 7 year old, but lately, everything ends in “Awww,” or “Not fair,” or “Okay, fine but you have to___” (fill in the blank with something I have to do for him because somehow he’s been wronged). Example: He miraculously (and also, unfortunately, on a school day) sleeps until 7am, thereby causing him to miss the full hour of television he usually gets before we all get up and get morning party started. His demand: “Okay, fine but you have to let me download a game for $10.99.” Because you slept late and missed TV time?! What?!
Of course, because I’m not actually the worst/laziest parent in the world (today… at this moment), I don’t give in to these ridiculous demands (all the time). I have some authority. Some sense of control. Some sense of responsibility.
And then, sometimes, I don’t. I’ve got nothing. The “I am mommy hear me roar” reserve is completely depleted and my strength to march into the land of sunshine, outdoor activities, crafty backyard inventions, and all things non-electronic and dye-free FAILS. But I don’t always feel so bad about it…. Because you see, I rely on the pride I feel watching him inhale books about The Battle of Gettysburg, Harry Houdini, Pompeii, and Steve Jobs (No seriously, he’s reading about Steve Jobs right now). Am I saying I feel better about myself as a parent because he can tell you/me about Pearl Harbor and various facets of WW2? Yes, kind of. Am I saying it makes it
totally okay easier to justify taking off the Mommy of the Year hat for a few minutes to let him “Awww!” and “Not fair!” whatever it is he wants out of me? Yes, kind of.
The kid cracks me up and amazes me and stumps me and blows me away, annoying “Awwws” and all. And sometimes, just sometimes, him getting his way leads to a moment that I want to bottle up and remember forever. After giving him my phone during a drive home to play a game, 15 minutes later, here is what we heard, honest to God, coming from the backseat:
J: Siri, What is the most fanciest car?
J: Siri, What is the most expensive car?
J: Can I fart on you?
J: What is your favorite kind of car?
J: Do you watch “Blackish?”
J: Siri, where do you live?
J: Do you like life?
J: Have you ever seen a flying turd?
J: Where are you from?
J: Do you have friends?
J: Siri, what kind of accent is that?
J: Do you have a vagina?
J: Siri, when is the new season of “The Bachelor?”
J: Why does your poop smell so bad?
J: Siri, what does your body look like?
J: Siri, what school do I go to?
J: How much money do you make?
J: Please can I fart on you?
And to think, none of this would have happened if I didn’t just say, Okay… Fine. Take the phone…
Siri, do you have any parenting tips?
Guess I’m off the hook for now…