Archive for the ‘Not Mom of the Year’ Category

The Mommyologist and Life without Pink are hosting a “Not Mom of the Year Award” contest – and, well, I just could not resist! I love competition – beating my sons in checkers, chess or just thumb-wars is a high-light of my life! I just had to pick up their gauntlet!

 (Now, let me qualify, if you’ve either given your child a kidney, nurtured them through life-threatening illnesses, or had a child grow up to serve their country putting their life at risk – now that qualifies for being a Mom of the Year.)

I miss those days when my little guys thought I was award worthy. If life got bumpy, nap-time came, resetting their heart, mind and memory. Mom of the Year Award – well, my boys just would not have thought of it. To my little guys, I was their mom of the year every day (the greatness about the little years – they see you an perfect, awesome and greater than any Star Wars force) – until the tweens hit  – a speed-bump for the rocky ride ahead.

I rather like this inverted idea of Not Mom of the Year Award – all about the down and dirty, real life adventure of being a mommy – and like any good adventure – the journey is not always pretty.

All 5 of my boys would agree that I epitomize the Not Mom of the Year Award – from the oldest married son down to the saucy little 4th grader who would just agree moms are created to tease, drive and cook dinner.

The oldest asserts I participated in unequal distribution of toughness. Well, he is right. I had inappropriate expectations of what a first born can do. Yeah, they cannot make their own beds. So we re-adjusted those expectations when the others came along.

The second one says he doesn’t love Jesus or his mama right now – so No Mom of the Year Award there. No job? No gas money. Not getting the grades? No car. Not being respectful? No home. Tough love does not win awards.

The third one? No Mom of the Year Awards for cooking here. “Can Nanny come over and just take it out of the oven – it will just taste that much better if she does?” If he could actually make himself turn green when he sat down to the dinner table, he would. He excels at Mommy Ego Shattering 101!

The fourth one? Well, he really adores me (thank you, God), but he has finally realized that I am fallible – no perfect mommy for him. I do not have the capacity to keep up with his gazillion questions, his thirst for knowledge and wisdom. He sees me fuss at the “crazy school drivers,” “crazy church drivers,” “crazy grocery store drivers,” “crazy soccer drivers” and the “crazy tractor driver” on the road between 7:30 and 8 a.m. on a school morning.” He goes from moments of great love to great frustration with me. I guess it is hard to watch your mom fall off the pedestal.

The fifth one? This year he stepped firmly out of the “I-love-my-mommy” camp into the “I’m-a-daddy’s-boy” camp.  They all eventually do. He was the last, the, sniff, baby. Teasing me is his greatest joy in life. But he would not vote for me either. He, along with his brother, has to read for an hour daily over the summer. Yes, no vote there.

The cats out of the bag – I am Not Mom of The Year Award material.

 All those naps they were forced to take were because mom needed one – and still does.

All those school essays that have big points? I don’t write them for the boys. I use track changes, noting, “More detail. Add a story. Give a definition. You need a topic statement for this paragraph. You need a conclusion to this paragraph.” Followed by, “See my Harbrace, page X for citation. This is how you quote (example provided please mimic) followed by a coming-away comment.” The contempt on each son’s face who has experienced a research paper could chill your heart (I spent all one Mother’s Day cracking the writing whip). However, that motto – “Never let them see you sweat” – well, they don’t. Standing firm in the face of anger, dislike, frustration and total rebellion sometimes requires just standing. No great ideas. No making nice. No trying to win an award.  Just standing. Standing firm does not win awards.

Unlimitless patience? It doesn’t exist. After watching my two oldest walk through my kitchen either naked or in their boxers, despite repeated requests to stop, prompted me to start unbuttoning my pants, saying, “Well, if you can do it, I can, too.” They scattered. No naked or almost-naked boys for at least 3 months.  An award-worthy mom would have handled the situation with more dignity (note – all I had to do was start un-buttoning) – but, I have found at times that dignified responses fall on deaf ears.

They do not want to learn to drive with me in the car. Imagine Garfield claws stuck to the roof of the van – and, well, that’s me. However, I climb in that passenger seat, grip whatever I can find to hold on to and pray, “Greater is He that’s in me than He that’s in the world.” And they drive every morning to school, on the way home and everywhere else, leaving me shaken, needing years of therapy. Brave, courageous mom? Please look elsewhere.  There is nothing brave about me.  I am just a mom trying not to let them see me shaking in my sandals! I could say that it is moments like this that nobly let them see the beauty of leaving the nest – at the right time, of course. Sadly, there is nothing noble about these moments. Not scary mommy – but scardy-mommy.

 Yeah, I have the un-ending supply of laundry, dirty dishes in the sink and toilets that need cleaning (imagine toilets with 5 boys). And, yes, I will take down anyone who tries to snarf my Marble Slab Deep Dark Chocolate with Key Lime ice cream quart (I could say this is setting healthy boundaries, but I would be lying).

Tired of hearing, “There is nothing to do. Can we go to Wal-Mart or a movie?” I am. So, I told them it was important to learn how to fill those “nothing-to-do times.” Appalled! Aghast! No activity planning? No play dates? Well, no, not every day! Definitely No Mom of the Year Award there.

Rock Star Mom has morphed into Not Mom of the Year Award material. That day when you no longer control every bite that goes into their mouth, identify the point of origination for every word that enters their vocabulary, have every friend’s mama on your cell phone, lead those bed-time prayers – that day when you give them independence with training wheels – well, that is when two wills often collide. Those are the years no awards are given. Those are walk-of-faith years, knee-dropping years of prayer, hoping moments, unconditional love moments, moments where imperfection on both sides is the name of the game. Definitely Not Mom of the Year times.

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