It’s hard sometimes being a mama and being, well, better at stuff than your kids. You know? Like, they want to be good at stuff right now, and you don’t want to discourage them, and they say stuff like, “I’m a really good draw-er, right, Mom? As good as you, right?” with their earnest scribbles, and, “I can match my clothes really good, Mom,” with the fuschia socks and the gold shirt and the green plaid skirt, and you can see they’re trying — they’re trying so hard — and they suddenly care about proficiency, and you don’t want to squash that initiative, so you LIE and say stuff back like, “Sure you are,” and, “You’re SO GOOD at that, sweetheart.” ...
I went to the coffee shop this morning and exchanged my usual banter with the usual baristas as we’ve done off and on for a few years now. We tell jokes. We make off-hand and slightly off-color comments. We laugh too loud because we think we’re funny and we don’t much care if we’re wrong.
This morning, though, after we finished our rowdy chatter, one of the guys asked me what kind of filter I have. ...
Here’s how I feel today: pfffttttttt.
So I wrote haikus.
I don’t know why those things go together, but they do.
Without further ado, here are:
10 Haikus About Motherhood
Got Out of Bed Late
Got out of bed late.
Big surprise. By which I mean,
No surprise at all.
Spilled coffee on my
shirt on my way to work this
morning. Normal day. ...
I don’t know what made me do it, but I’m a Christian, so I’m going to go with the Devil.
The Devil made me do it; that’s always a good excuse.
It’s just THE TEMPTATION, you guys. THE TEMPTATION OVERWHELMED ME.
I’ve heard it said God never gives us more than we can handle, but a) that’s a crap theological statement any way you slice it, and, b) more importantly, I’ll bet God wouldn’t say stuff like that if God’s husband went away for a week, took most of the children, and left her with way, WAY too much time on her hands. Time to think about buying a miniature horse, for example. And, yes, obviously time to reject buying a miniature horse because DUH. But also time to think about convincing her husband she’d bought a miniature horse anyway, because bwahahahaha; SATAN. ...
Keeping It Real
“Keeping It Real.”
It’s just, even though I don’t have time to write you All the Details right now, and even though I plan to write you All the Details soon, I need you to know we moved our couch yesterday. ...
This is a Spaghetti Sandwich.
It’s an enriched, bleached, white wheat roll stuffed with spaghetti noodles and red sauce; simple carbohydrates wrapped in simple carbohydrates, and, I think we can all agree, nutritionally deficient GENIUS.
GENIUS, I tell you.
You would think this kind of innovation came from America.
It’s our legacy. ...
My twin 8-year-old boys asked to guest post on this blog. What a great learning opportunity, I thought. What a wonderful way to pass my craft on to my children, I thought. And so I agreed and set about creating parameters for them.
“Yes, you may guest post,” I said, “but — BUT — you will need to pick an important topic, you will spell words correctly, you will have a POINT, you will have reasons for that point, you will have a conclusion, and it will be about something that will improve the lives of other children.” In other words, none of the parameters I have for my own writing because DO WHAT I SAY, kids, NOT WHAT I DO, which is hypocritical, yes, but it’s the same way I treat drinking milk out of the carton — OK for me, not OK for you hooligans — so I’m being consistent, see? ...