Let me begin by saying that F*ing with our kids is an endless source of amusement for Seven and I. We are a funny family. The kids can take it. They dish it right back…. Conversations at our dinner table are an endless series of shock, awe, and giggles (with the occasional reprimand for cursing and/or burping) ~~~ note: I’m usually the one being reprimanded for both of those things.. by my kids… again– never claimed to be mother of the year.
- One of my biggest peeves is when one of my boys whines/ complains/ inquires “Why does HE get to “insert activity here”. My standard answer is always “Obviously, because I love him more than I love you.”
When this is said in public or with new acquaintances I get lots of gasps, dirty looks, etc. People—- don’t judge me. You get to raise your kids and I get to raise mine.. It’s God’s special gift to my boys to be raised by me The thing is, since my boys have heard this forever, their immediate response is “No you don’t… You loved me more 5 minutes ago”…(to which I generally reply “Well, it’s a sliding scale”) They are always grinning and the situation is usually diffused. This is how I parent. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying it’s wrong. But it works for us. And I’m sure it will work for the bank accounts of the future therapists of my children.
- Number One is in 5th grade. He is too cool for my antics. Of course, the more he protests, the thicker I lay it on.. Little love notes in his backpack and lunch box. Sometimes on pink heart-shaped paper. I volunteer at the school a LOT and know the majority of the kids. I have a great relationship with them and am just as ridiculous with them as I am with my own kids. ( I mention this only to explain that I’m not forcing social suicide on Number One.. only giving him something to roll his eyes at with his friends……. at least that’s what I tell myself). Last week, I was making his lunch. I swear, I had no mischievous intent. But as I was laying the pepperoni on his tortilla, I just couldn’t help myself. I got the giggles so hard I had to stop what I was doing and catch my breath. And then I microwaved it so it would all be stuck in place.
ME: Number One!! Come see what I made you for lunch!!”
Number One: OH MY GOD MOM…… Do you want everyone to think I’m 3? I’m in FIFTH GRADE!! Do that crap for Number Three!!!!
ME: hysterics… no words… cannot stop laughing…
Number One: Mom- you have problems… Seriously.
ME: Don’t you like that I microwaved it so it’s all stuck in place?? I think I may come have lunch with you tomorrow. I’ll wear a dress.
Number One: DAD!!!
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