This portion of Home Ec is just a place to get it off your chest. It’s all too easy for me just to share the best parts of life, the Internet Snapshot, if you will. This is a skewed version of life and it’s not really what I want to portray, especially to young moms. Life is messy and we all have our less than glamorous moments. Even though I haven’t run this series in a few weeks, all three happened are current events.
File the first one under Bad Idea
A few nights ago, feeding the kids before we had to rush out the door, I made cheeseburger macaroni -no it wasn’t from a box, this isn’t the confession part- the kids hated it. Fine, we were late, whatever. We ran out the door and I forgot to put away the leftovers. Fine, I decided they could be a treat for the dog over the next few days. Someone in this house and I’m not mentioning names, but it rhymes with schmimothy gave the dog the leftovers all at once. Conveniently he hasn’t been home once to clean up the ramifications.
Next time I’ll just throw it away, it’ll save time and a whole bunch of paper towels.
My middle son is my daredevil child. There’s nothing too high to climb, there’s no adventure his older brother takes off on that he won’t follow out of spite and determination. He’s the one who is going to cause grey hair. He broke his dominant arm in July when he fell off his skateboard. Six weeks in a cast during the best parts of summer. Poor guy. Sunday night I tucked them in and went to bed early with my friend Benadryl thanks to my nemesis ragweed. It was my husband who heard him fall out of bed. We got him calmed down and tucked back in. I went back to bed to lie down, but could only toss and turn. So I decided to take him into the ER. Why? The whole time I (and I’m sure the doctor and nurse did, too until they saw the x-ray) thought I was being a bit dramatic, I mean it was out of a normal twin bed, onto a carpeted floor, what’s that 2.5 feet? And the kid? Oh he was gesturing with his arm, while jabbering away.
I think I went partly because I recognized that cry and partly because I know this kid is going to earn his frequent flyer badge for the ER and with the way they scrutinize parents now scares the pants off me. They ask everyone this question, but do you think a kid who just fell out of bed while sound asleep and broke his arm knows what is meant by, “Do you feel safe at home?” Kids don’t get subtext, especially not five year olds for whom closets, the dark, and the space under the bed are nightmare fodder.
Oh, the confession part? I forgot to get his x-rays for the orthopedist until the morning of the follow-up appointment. I had to call the ER in a panic to see if I could get a copy just before we had to make our 8:30am appointment 45 minutes away. Thank goodness, even in my smallish town that X-rays aren’t on film and are saved in an easily replicated data format. Thank God for modern technology. (He’s doing fine, but he hates telling people how he did it, even he knows there’s no cool factor in hurting yourself rolling out of bed. He loved to tell people the skateboard version.)
The last one is petty.
I hate going to my son’s football practice. He’s homeschooled, we see each other all day long, he’s not lacking one-on-one parental time. Someone on Twitter told me I’m supposed to watch him the entire time. Two hours? Four days a week, I’m supposed to sit on the sidelines and micromanage him? No. I’ll watch the actual games and yes, I’ll fuss at him during practice if I see him goofing off or misbehaving, but sorry random Twitter guy, sometimes a little space without Mom’s interference is what a kid needs. Also? I am not good at boredom. I bring a book.
The Sunday Confessional is open, share whatever you need to get off your chest, you can do it anonymously if you need, just keep it relatively clean. Have fun.