(Warning – uncalled for swear words ahead. Shield you eyes if they bother you or really just click away. Also MAJOR grammatical errors. Bite me.)
I remember reading in some stupid parenting book I bought in 2002 that we aren’t suppose to tell our children that we are proud of them. Instead we are suppose to say something like “I love how you took the blue paint and mixed it with the red paint and made a purple flower!” but holy crap never tell them that they made an awesome purple flower or the best purple flower in the universe or you are so proud of them for making something that actually looked like a damn flower instead of a big purple blob. Because – wow do they make a lot of blobs or what?
Or please don’t tell them you love their blob – just ask them “tell me about your painting” and then they make some super crazy shit up about how the purple blob is really a spaceship coming to save us all from the aliens that invaded Earth and you are like “I love the way you used the color to express your creativity to show the aliens” and I am like..
IT’S JUST A FUCKING BLOB and I’m just so proud that you painting quietly for 15 minutes. Truly.
I mean it’s just probably going into the garbage anyway.
Which has nothing to do with anything except that I over-analyzed the shit out of something today and it RUINED MY WHOLE DAMN DAY. WHOLE DAMN DAY. On HOW someone could even ignore an apology or WHAT the hell even happened or the fact that I cannot even trust one of my best friends. and then I’m like you know what – I JUST MADE A HUGE BLOB. HUGE. And it’s not even purple and I love purple.
Anyway – senseless. Also – those two things have nothing to do with anything except the fact that I wasn’t proud of myself nor did Astrid even paint today to give me 15 minutes.
Whoa is me. Fucking whoa is me. So here is me at 2pm shuffling into my daughter’s ‘Walk on the Wild Side’ HUGE presentation at school where I shit you not there are nearly 150 WILD ANIMAL MODELS that these third graders have made. LIKE LIFE SIZE emperor penguins and nesting bald eagles and grizzlies eating fish and the cutest damn koalas you have ever seen. But that’s not all. Every single one of them has put together a research book with color pictures and detailed animal characteristics. And as Astrid and I ‘walked on the wild-side’ – these kids..oh these kids..they were so damn proud and I wanted to hug every single one of them and tell them how awesome they are and how awesome they will always be and how awesomely proud they should be of themselves.
But I showed some restraint because of the parenting books.
And then I saved the best, in my eyes, one for last – and that look. Oh my hell that look in Eloise’s eyes when she showed her polar bear and handed me her book to read. She looked at me and said “I’m so glad you are here.” Truly that’s all that really matters doesn’t it.
I finished flipping through the book and the last page was the ‘about the author page’ (of course) and it read “when I grow-up I want to be a stay-at-home mom, work in fashion and be a writer, just like my mom.”
I looked at her and said ‘really, I didn’t know that Eloise. I need you to know that parts of these jobs are pretty shitty.’ (And yes I said shitty to my daughter AND AT SCHOOL – EXPULSION!)
And she said “I know, but I’m proud of you mom and I think it would be pretty cool to be just like you someday.”
So dear parenting books. BITE ME!