I guess they’re embarrassing.
My oldest son Daniel is frequently called upon to tell me, “Mother, you shouldn’t say that out loud.”
He always calls me Mother. With that tone. You know the one.
I’ve already confessed I was a young mother. A too young, 17 year old mother. I was the best mother a 17 year old could possibly be – which is pretty much like being the smartest moron in the room.
Two weeks before Daniel was born my dog got run over. Distraught with 17 year old grief I said, “I’d rather have my dog than a baby.”
I’ve told this story a few times. My son says, “Mother, normal mothers don’t say things like that.”
He’s forgetting that I always close with, “Imagine my surprise when I saw my kid and liked him waaaay better than that dog.”
I’m not a complete loser.
Another favorite reminiscence of mine (well, it used to be. God forbid I should tell it) is when said son’s turtle fell off the balcony to his untimely death. I knew Daniel’s heart would break. Desperate to soothe I told him, “You know, he had a lot of bills. He lost his job, his wife left him. That’s why he jumped.”
He responded sobbing, his little face scrunched up in horror, “My turtle committed suicide?”
“Well, if you put it like that…”
What I didn’t say was, “I told you not to leave that damn turtle out on the third story balcony, didn’t I?” Do I get any points for NOT saying that? Guess not.
When my daughter Kayla was born she was a homely little thing.
I shit you not. She cried constantly and had no forehead. I loved her and all, but contrary to common belief, love isn’t blind.
“She’s not that cute,” I’d say.
Daniel, age 4 would chime in, “Mother, you’re not very nice.”
Today, Kayla is a stunner. Seriously. A beauty. I tell everyone. I love her and all, but love still isn’t blind. Just calling it like I see it.
I’m overcome with similar sentiment about my grandkids. Whom, I make no secret, I adore. However, I thought I was a little on the YOUNG side for grandma-hood. Not to mention, I thought my oldest daughter was too young for motherhood.
She wasn’t as young as I was…but still, not yet 20. Ack. But, ever stoic, I adjusted.
When Kayla was pregnant, all kinds of women would say with glee, “Aren’t you so excited? Grandkids are so awesome.”
I’d answer with, “I’m sure I’ll like it just fine.”
Daniel would scold, “Mother. You don’t say ‘you’ll like it just fine’ about a baby. You say that about carpeting or a car. NOT a baby.”
Pardon me.
To my astonishment, Kayla insisted on my presence during her labor and delivery. Let me tell you my friends, if you haven’t had that pleasure…count your freaking blessings. I didn’t want to be present for my own labors and deliveries, much less…
I kept escaping. Then they’d find me. I told Daniel, “She was like the Mafia. Every time I tried to get out, she pulled me back in.”
“Mother, you just said that out loud.”
But, I have to admit, when Madison was born, she was every bit the miracle they said she’d be. I fell hard for her. I didn’t have a prayer.
My daughter still says that day, and her childbirth experience, was in the top five of her best memories. So, that’s enough to melt even my black heart.
Then came Adelia, Kayla’s second baby. Not thrilled with the prospect. Said so. Then she arrived, and like a snuggly, cuddly worm, she crawled right into my heart. I don’t think there’s a kid more loved than Adelia.
Then Amelie.
Good God. Would they ever stop?
At least this was a different daughter’s baby.
“You’re going to be a grandma again? That’s so fantastic,” some idiot would crow.
“Shut up.”
Daniel would lecture, “Mother, you know as soon as you see them you’re like jello. Why don’t you just try to enjoy it?”
“Did I ever tell you about my dog?”
Then, there she was. All red hair, big blue eyes, little gap between her teeth. She loves feather boas and crowns. How precious is Amelie?
Then, yet one more.
Kayla announced another imminent birth.
I bit my tongue.
I kept my mouth shut. So shut. Until…
“Mom, I know you’re not happy about this, but-”
Then I said a bunch of stuff out loud that I shouldn’t have.
Daniel nagged, “Now you’ve done it. I told you not to say anything.”
Yeah. Got it.
Well, as grandkids will, Che Jr. was born. Our first grandson.
Oh my goodness. What a joy he is. A delicious bundle of all things fabulous. Just when you think your heart can’t take it all in, it expands and grows and fills with all kinds of mushy love.
Daniel said, “I told you, Mother…I knew as soon as you saw him you’d be crazy for him.”
Kaya said, “Isn’t he so handsome?”
“I hope he’s not an asshole.”
###
Kathleen O’Donnell is the author of “The Last Day for Rob Rhino,” a Foreword Review and Next Generation Indy Book of the Year Finalist
Thank you, Kathleen, for helping me feel a little be better about my parenting faux pas. And I do mean that as a compliment. It’s great to be reminded of our collective humanity. Enjoy all those lovely grand babies!
Worst mother in the world is my mantra! So glad you enjoyed it.
Can I say that I relate completely? And that honesty is a bitch, really. A bitch. And don’t I know it! (still laughing)
Indeed Carol Cassara, indeed! A real bitch.
Two of my very favorite bloggers in one place today! Vikki and Kathleen. Love it! And I love this post, Kathleen. You had me laughing from Sentence No. 1. You’re not alone in saying things out loud from time to time that perhaps shouldn’t be said. Oh no! Guilty of that I am as well. My sisters would be only too happy to convict me of this crime I suspect. And my husband…. I shudder to think how adamantly he’d agree that I should be convicted. :)
You’d think after all my faux pas I’d learn to zip it. But, no. Thank you for your kind words Marcia! You’re inspiring me to get on the ball again. I’ve been taking somewhat of a breather.
Love this! I also became a grandmother waaaay too soon…and thanks to the kid we all thought would be the LAST one to ever have a baby! Go figure. The best thing is, having a baby was the best thing to ever happen to him (at 18 no less) and that little peanut has taken up residence in my heart like no other being on this earth. Like you, I say what I’m thinking a tad too much, but if it weren’t for us blabbermouths everyone else would be out of a job scolding us, right? Thanks for the laugh and be assured, you are not alone!
I know! Our kids wouldn’t have anything to complain about if we didn’t flap our gums so often. And God knows they need something!
You are hilarious and your son is the perfect straight man. Following!
He is the perfect straight man because he’s gay! He’s hilarious.
This is just hilarious! I am on my fourth and hopefully my last and I have to admit the last two, maybe because they had such an uphill fight, really did me in. I am in baby love and this after staying up all night with one of them!
You all have had an uphill battle lately, Rena. Thank the heavens it’s all turning out. Things have a way of doing that, despite our terrible parenting skills…LOL!
I love your guest post Kathleen. So honest and so darn funny.
Thank you! I so appreciate your reading and commenting. Really!
While reading that, I giggled throughout. Clearly, if it’s in your mind, you blurt it out – an endearing quality (despite the offence you cause!). And I love the idea of a suicidal turtle!
OMG. That turtle…not my finest parenting moment. Ack!
Good lord woman, you just make me laugh! I wish I was you though…I am the kind that thinks all this stuff but never says it outloud…not usually!
You are a wiser woman than I, Barbara! My foot is almost always in my mouth.
I’m with you! I still meet up with 3 women from our play groups days, as we were so brutal honest with each other. We never pretended our ‘angels’ or our parenting styles were perfect.
Happy to say, that our children are now in their mid 20’s are a very well adjusted, and the play group mothers are as well.
It all comes full circle…hee hee hee…
Grandmothers are the first responder, the keepers of the gate, the “asshole prevention” squad!
Proud to be a member of the elite squad. And good to remember that love always, always wins in the end.
It so does. What can you do? You gotta love them!
my rather attractive husband often reminds me: “inside thoughts, kate. INSIDE.”
I just met you but think i love you. great post — great!
I’m sure my husband thinks the same thing…but he’s smarter than me and keeps things to himself! Thanks so much for reading and commenting. You’re awesome!
There is a good chance that Daniel and my son Jimmy were somehow separated at birth. Do you get this a lot: “mother, you can think it, but you don’t have to WRITE it!” For Christmas I gave him an engraved plague, inscribed with “Light up Shirley.” He gave me a pillow with this stitched across it: “Beware: she has zero filters.”
When my novel was published Daniel remarked, “Mother (in that tone) this is making me uncomfortable.” LOL. Love that pillow! Hilarious. We’ve done our job if we embarrass our kids every chance we get.
This is hilarious, you are a hoot. I can’t believe you told your son that his turtle committed suicide, that’s one for the records. I am so sick of walking on eggshells with my two teens (17 & 19 – unlike you I waited ’til I was 39 to start procreating, not sure which of us had the better idea, to be honest) and think I’m going to take a page from you and start being much more straightforward. Can’t wait to see their faces when I start spewing out what’s really in my head when they tell me what they’re up to these days.
Well, I only implied suicide…! The key is to say these things in front of other people when your kids are present. I mean, embarrassing them is one of the few pleasures left in life.