Mommy is doing the best she can, honey. I can't tell you how many times I repeated that phrase to my four-year old while visiting my Mom this past weekend. Swimming nonstop for 6 hours straight combined with the fact that I overcooked her mac and cheese and forgot to pack her favorite Hello Kitty underwear really sent her over the edge!
And I didn't miss the small smile forming on my mother's lips as she watched Miss R demand the crust be taken off her bread or when she told me that my singing "hurt her ears". (In her defense, I am a TERRIBLE singer. But still.)
Come on people. It didn't take a mind reader to know what my mom was thinking while she had that smirk on her face.
Finally! It's payback time, beyotch!
Yes, it's true. Growing up, I had a tendency to be somewhat of a little bitchface at times to my mother, who in all fairness, was a wonderful parent. Hell, even now, I sometimes speak to her like a spoiled teenage brat, rolling my eyes and saying, "Whatevuh, Mom!" whenever she harps on me for not taking a daily multi-vitamin or reminds me that osteoporosis runs in our family.
And normally, occasional meltdowns from my kids when they are overly exhausted don't really phase me. But I just finished Tori Spelling's MOMMYWOOD last week and now every perceived injustice from my daughter has me paranoid. You see, My girl Tori has got some serious mama drama and she's obsessed with righting the perceived wrongs from her childhood. Specifically, things that her mother Candy did. And that obsession seems to control most of the parenting decisions that she makes.
Candy made Tori wear her hair in a bob for most of her childhood? Well, her daughter Stella is going to grow her hair down to her ass like some crazy hippie!
Candy had incredible costumes made every Halloween? Well, Tori is ordering hers from *gasp* Pottery Barn Kids! Take that, Candy!
By the end of the book, I felt bad for Tori. And not because she had some terrible childhood, (I'm sorry, but while giving your child Madame Alexander dolls may be lame, it's not child abuse!) but because she has let her mother's flaws as a parent have such power over her, even as an adult.
And if Tori and I were BFFs, (Does it count that I know someone who knows someone who is in her Mommy and me class?) I'd give her this small pearl of wisdom:
No matter what you do or how hard you try, you're going to F*CK up your kids somehow. That while you may be successful in not screwing them up the same way your parents did, I assure you that they will find all new ways to be screwed up. It's just the way it is. All you can do is love them and do the best you can!
So there you go, Tori. The answer to all your problems. No need to thank me, girl.
And in tribute to my own mother, I've complied a list of all the ways I'm probably scarring my own children for life. I'm thinking it will come in handy when my daughter pens her first tell-all!
MOMMY IS VERY SORRY THAT...
1. Mommy is very sorry about Goofy the guinea pig's death. And despite what you told everyone at preschool, I did not feed her poison spinach.
2. Mommy is sorry that she dared to speak while you were watching Spongebob. I know that it was a very pivotal moment where you were about to discover the secret "Krabby Patty" ingredient.
3. Mommy is very sorry that her tater tots don't taste the same as the ones they serve at preschool. You would think that all over-processed frozen potato products would taste the same. But as you mentioned, theirs are "yummy" and mine are "disgusting". Actually, you told me that they were IS-UG-STING. But I knew what you meant.
4. Mommy is very sorry that she doesn't want to get her hair wet at the pool. But, seriously, have you seen what Mommy's hair looks like when it air dries? And on a side note, I'm sorry to break the news you may have the same problem on your hands in the future. And don't go blaming that one on me, girlfriend. Even Mommy can't control genetics!
5. Mommy is very sorry she didn't eat the thousand-calorie banana bread your class worked very hard on at the Mother's day breakfast. All I can say is that I hope you inherit your Grandmother's metabolism!
xoxo Liz