Mom of the Year

“Mom! You are the worst!” Ah! Motherhood at its finest. It’s the first week of January and I’ve already dropped out of the running for Mom of the Year.  I usually make it a little longer.  This might be a record.  Whatever the definition of Mom of the Year is will never be me anyway.  I can’t fly a helicopter and I’m not real great with a lawnmower.  You’ll never see me hovering over my kids making sure they don’t experience anything unpleasant or mowing their way clear of any obstacles.  I might, however, point out some big rocks in their path, but I won’t move them.  They need to figure things out for themselves.

My kids set their own alarms and make their own lunches.  They know how to clean the bathrooms and cook the basics.  If they are cold it’s because they forgot a sweater and if they don’t bring their PE clothes they wear the loaner ones from the school.  At least the loners don’t have a big L on the front like they did when I was in school.  Forgot their homework? Bummer. They will have to explain that to the teacher.  I’m not bringing anything to school that they forgot and I won’t sign anything in a rush in the morning.  They know they need to be prepared for their day ahead of time and it works for us.

I can’t help with their math homework because it’s not how I was taught it and It doesn’t make sense to me.  I can only understand History since I was there for some of it and English since it hasn’t changed very much.  Mostly, my kids are on their own for things like this just as I was at their age

My kids have plenty to eat even if sometimes its take-out, lots of clothes, even though they aren’t all name brand because who cares anyway, and they are loved. That’s the best I can do.  We spend a lot of time laughing and enjoying life.  My kids are happy and I think we have raised some good people.  I think if you are a mom and you aren’t called the worst once in a while you might be doing something wrong.

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