I’m about one peanut butter and jelly sandwich dinner away from being an unfit parent.
Keep cooking a secret! Especially breakfast foods. Even more especially eggs, and DO NOT EVER EVER EVER show your kids how to make pancakes, don’t even let them observe you making them, and when they get old enough to read MARK OUT THE INSTRUCTIONS on the back of the box. Matter fact, just put the mix in a ziplock bag. Heed this warning or you too will suffer. The first things I learned how to cook were scrambled eggs. My cousin and I figured one day that we were grown enough to do this, they were horrible and mostly stuck to the pan but we ate them proudly, and triumphantly. My son’s first real foray into chefing was eggs as well (Kid’s Cuisine doesn’t count). The eggs should have been a red flag, but I thought maybe this is good for his confidence and independence. The first time he decided he was going to (without asking) just go into the fridge and cook him up some eggs, I let it slide. Then he graduated to Pancakes! You see it was all fun and games until someone decided PANCAKES = SNACKS! So this kid starts whipping up pancakes with reckless abandon! It was to the point where he wasn’t even plating them! He’d be just strutting around the house with casual pancakes! I couldn’t even take a nap without waking up to the Essence of Aunt Jemima and the Spirit of Hungry Jack wafting through my house!! Parents you’ve been warned, don’t let those little jokers learn how to cook until they can contribute to the grocery bill.
I’m in the closet drinking juice and reading books. IT.IS.ME.TIME! It’s my day dangit!! This morning at 12:07am my boy gave me this lovely card:
and at 12:17am after I told him how much I loved it and would love it even more if he added an L to the word “world”, he asked me “Okay so what do you have for me?” He was serious. Fast forward to “for real morning time”. I’m in the bathroom with my vibrating footbath (with heat); he walks in and sticks his foot right in with mine. I’m like “Umm, Ok BYE!” He leaves. About 15 minutes later I smell breakfast food. Could it be?! Nah, he can’t be doing what I think he’s doing? I’m actually scared to get my hopes up. I hear the clatter of plates through the bathroom door and imagine him scurrying around with excitement about surprising me with breakfast. I did allow myself a lil smile at the thought. I decided to take a little extra time drying off my now super relaxed feet. I had the mommy face all ready, you know, the ingratiating furrowed brows, slight head cock and turned down lip smile, straight MOMMA FACE! And then I opened the bathroom door, and this:
I’M SO DONE!
Me! I’m Raki a former teen mom. I just turned 30 last Nov 2011 and my son, David (Dave) turned 11 a month earlier in October. My son and I have a pretty cool relationship, we get each other and we’re both creative. I’m a fashion designer, he draws…..I draw better ha ha! Our lives are both at pivotal points, he’s starting middle school next year and I’m starting a mid-life crisis of sorts. Background info, I had Dave when I was 18 and a sophomore in college. My college life after that is much of a blur, but I graduated on time YEAH! Essentially for all of my adult life I’ve been a parent, now at 30 I’m really seeing the toll that “responsibility” has taken on me. I’m getting back to myself and really trying to learn how to be more self-indulgent, be more confident in my identity, elevate my quality of living through HIGHER HEISTS HEIGHTS and raise a well balanced young man. That sounds good doesn’t it? But I’m SCARED TO DEATH of what’s to come!!! My career is at a turning point and my kid is about to be surrounded by a teaming institution of hormonally imbalanced hellions! 30 and 11 is about our journey, a mother-son adventure that started over 11 years ago. This blog is also my perspective on being a parent, a single parent, shared through stories, drawings, anectdotes, confessions etcetera and whatever. And Away We GOOOO!