I often tell myself, “I am going to be the worst mother-in-law ever,” and then I’m like, “Don’t be so hard on yourself, self!” but I don’t listen, because by that point I’m usually thinking about cookies, and the cookie brain is the strongest. Mmm, cookies. Hang on a minute, y’all.
I’m just acknowledging that I might have a little blind spot in regards to my children. I didn’t really think I was capable of that, seeing as I am a pretty realistic person and I know, I know that I am raising small humans who carry at least my husband’s flaws. At least. But you know, as time passes and I run into things about them that need to be corrected, it’s always a little bit of a surprise that maybe they are not better than all of the other children in all of the world. But maybe they are, who am I to judge?
The newest development among the 6 and 7 year old set is the sass mouth. I can’t say I’m shocked. Sass Mouth is a condition that runs in our family for many, many generations. Some people have even suggested that I have it. To that I would gently reply, and I mean this from my heart, “Your mom has a sassy mouth.”
I’ve always considered my sense of humor a gift, a tool to help life work more smoothly, to bridge gaps and lift spirits. I’m seeing it now as a possible problem, because these punk kids are hilarious. They are sometimes defiant, disrespectful and demanding, but so funny. I’m always warring within myself (is this a theme?) between grounding them or giving them a high-five. I know the answer. I’ve been reading parenting books since I was 5, for lack of childish reading material. I know I have to be the boss. Which reminds me of a hilarious thing that Toby said, when the MOG took the whole case of bottled waters into his office and locked the door, “Why does he get all the water? Does he think he’s the boss or something?” I, being a parent and responsible adult, laughed excessively and then explained that he was, in fact, the boss. I think they believed me.
I’m making progress. At dinner, we’ve moved from “This fish tastes like DIRT.” (somewhat true) to “Mom, how can I say this nicely? This tastes like nothing.” or, “This is not my favorite, but that’s just because I don’t like any of it.” How do you keep a straight face, maybe you’re thinking. I don’t. I laugh all day long and so everybody around here thinks they are the Comedy Boss and I am their semi-competent hired hand and driver.
I’m gonna get a grip on all this really soon and I’m going to lay down the LAW on these kids. And then we’ll all laugh and laugh….