Mom Is Teaching

As you all know by now, I’ve been reading a couple of books.  I marked stuff in the books that I couldn’t wait to share with some of you.  Some of it is about those folks who fall into the stereo-type of Muffia and others who are like me, just plain ol’ White Trash Mom’s and the thing about it, neither group loves their children any more or any less. 

But, as I look through the book again today, I’m going to pick out some highlights and either tell you how I did that very thing myself or how I saw someone else do it.  Just sit back and roll with it and get  laugh around here for a change.

I’ll start with this little letter addressed to those Mothers who strive for perfection and some who put on the air of perfection, even when we all know….it is just not possible.  I’m not going to go all out into copyright infringement here, I’ll just pick the parts that really crack me up.

Dear Perfect Mothers,

      It upsets e because so many mothers look at you and then berate themselves for not being able to do it “all”.  I believe women should support other women but I have to tell you:  Please stop the madness.

I wrote a comment on someone’s blog yesterday who was a little nervous about not being able to walk their child into the building any longer, after a couple of weeks I think.  Anyway, we were told we could walk our kids in the first day, which was a Friday and the second day which was a Monday and then no more.  However, I see no less than 30 women in the mornings walking their little cherubs into the building……the cherubs are in the fourth, fifth and sometimes sixth grade.  In the evenings, it is men and women doing it, more to the tune of say, 45 parents. 

I know why they do it.  When you enter the buildings in the morning, their are staff members standing there directing the children into an old gymnasium where they have to sit in silence until 7:45.  Well, because these children do not want to follow this rule, they have their parent walk them into the building so that they can go to their room instead of doing what the rest of the children are doing which is apparently little fun.  It’s the parents way of being wrapped around their child’s finger and at the same time believing that their little darling is simply too good to go sit with the rest of the school until teachers arrive and are in their rooms ready for students.  I KID YOU NOT ON THIS ONE.

On a personal note, I simply time it so that my child doesn’t get out of my car until 7:45 or later and he is then allowed to go directly to his room.  If for some reason I had an appointment or work to get to on a schedule, my son would simply have to accept that he is no better than the rest of the kids.  My deep rooted reason for doing it that way is that we simply don’t have to get out of bed before 7 or 7:15 if I aim to get him there at 7:45 or 7:50.  Late is considered after 7:55 so obviously, I aim for 7:46.

Back to the letter:

You are contributing to a major problem in our culture by pretending to be perfect.  I have a few questions for you about how you “do it all”:

*  Does your husband actually help?

My husband does help a lot, not in the mornings though.  He is long gone by 5 AM, we are all on our own.

*  What drugs are you taking to make you so efficient, and can I have some?

I realize some people are morning people.  One of my favorite mom’s in Walker’s room is truly a morning person.  Even when she worked for me, she would rise at 5 AM or so, part of the time just for some peace and quite, she has 3 boys.  But, she admittedly said her bedtime was terribly skewed depending on “how much homework she had to do for the boys the night before”.  ACK

Back to the letter:

Being a mother is a full-time job all by itself, so please tell us how you juggle it.  ………………Because the myth that women can do it “all” and that doing it al is easy is a story that brings al of us down.

There are a couple of women that I see walk their children in and out of school everyday.  Each time they look freshly groomed by a stylist, a hair professional and most of all, a make-up specialist.  Me, I don’t even put on a bra and pray I’m not asked to come in for a second.