Nine months. I carried that kid, like some kind of leaching, alien life-form, inside my sacrificial body, for nine months.
As mothers, our sacrifice is great. From that first post-hospital panic attack to the crusty snot covering the left shoulder of every Sunday dress we own, we give it all for them.
When I think about the miraculous fact that my children can speak, feed themselves, walk, and remember to smile and say please and thank you on a regular basis, I’m pretty impressed with my mad mommy skills.
It’s not that Jason hasn’t done his fair share of ball tossing and diaper changing, it’s that I’m the one who’s here day in and day out spewing forth my vast supply of knowledge all around their little heads. They sludge through it, absorbing my know-how in the most surprising and sometimes shocking ways.
For instance, Rex likes to make people feel better for no good reason. If you look down and cease to fill the silence, he’ll chirp at you, “You can be anything if you put your mind to it!” And Junie, do you think she just naturally knows how to use a cell phone? Hmmm? That’s all me, people.
And so, it is with great shouts of outrage and horror that I present to you Harrison’s standard response to any compliment he receives. Take his bed making skills. They’re impressive, the kid has some fantastic tucking talent. But if you were to saunter into his bedroom post-bed making and say something like, “Wow! That looks great! Who taught you to make your bed that way?” do you know what he’ll say?
“MY DAD TEACHED ME.”
Every.
Single.
Time.
What the heck? I don’t think his dad even knows how to make Harrison’s bed, let alone spent the first week of school helping him perfect it. Oh wait. HIS DAD WASN’T EVEN IN THE STATE WHEN HE LEARNED HOW TO MAKE A BED.
If he ever gets on TV and has the nerve to wave to his father, he’s out of the will. I will strike that boy’s name from my blog, so help me.
PS – The bad grammar? I think his dad actually did teach him that one…
Love the zinger at the end! Moms always seem to get the short end of the stick, don’t they?
It’s such a bonding experience when we post at the same (basic time). And now you can’t dodge my phone calls, because I know your there.
And maybe if you start carrying a gun you’ll get some respect. It’s working for Jason…
Awesome. I’ve spent the last three nights sitting on the floor outside the InfaDel’s room listening to him cry for his father. Whatevs? It’s like I’m not here with him all day.
Maybe one of these days dad will get the “credit” for something really atrocious. We can always hope, right?
I wouldn’t worry about it. Next time he falls or does something stupid, ask him “did ya dad teach you that, ya numbskull?” I’ll think he’ll appreciate you more after that, after he’s done crying.
awesome. Maybe he could teach him how to make all the kids beds 🙂
I’m teaching a lesson on “Respect” at FHE tomorrow. I may have to mention the whole… “I carried you ungrateful sods for NINE MONTHS…” thing too.
Thanks for the input. I know my kids will thank you.
I love it…though, maybe he’s just more attached to his Dad…not that this is right considering the sacrifice Mom made. For example, Carter totally loves me, gives me credit, misses me, cuddles me…but Mason, loves his Dad. The only time Mason really wants me is if he has gotten hurt. Crazy…I think all kids should worship their mothers! Pregnancy is the worst…absolute worst and that alone is worth all the love and adoration from a child…let alone all the stuff we put up with after they get out of us!
By the way, I have emailed you twice (two different addresses) and both emails have failed and have been sent back to me…also the cell number I have for you has been disconnected…are you trying to lose me?!
I’m retarded…the emails I sent you…I put a “www” in front of them…I know, there are no words…
he he he that really gets you where it counts huh? I am very impressed you have taught you son to make his bed. Way to go.
My one year old knows exactly one word: Dada.
Do you love Mommy?
“Dada!”
Can you say thank you?
“Dada!”
I want to kill my husband.
Which is wrong.
For a sweet bonding moment you can always have your son teach your hubby how to make your bed. Then one last task for you! He’s probably getting the credit for it anyways! hehehehe!!!
Is he available to come to my house and “teached” everyone how to make a bed? Including my husband?
Seriously, if my kid had said that, we’d all still be laughing. The only thing funnier is if he said that dad teached him how to scrub a toilet.
You get more “Mommy Points” than me just having him make his bed. I have never seen the point of bed making – it’s just going to get all screwed up again at the end of the day. Plus, I can’t stand tucked in sheets – they’re so binding. My feet need more freedom than that at night. Except that I totally hear you on the no respect thing. I asked my five year old if I was smarter than my husband the other day, and she said NO. Her reasoning was because he was taller, but still, I’m totally going to have to change her thinking to the OBVIOUS right way.
Hahahaha!
Seriously, why is it that we Mom’s do all the work, and Dad’s get all the credit. AND they get paid actual $$ at their jobs, not just “kisses and hugs” or the “knowledge that I’m doing something more important than money can buy”
I wish there were some kind of government funding for stay at home moms.
Just start using it against them both, “What would your father say if he saw you take that from your sister/write on the wall/talk to me like that/go potty all by yourself?” “He would be so angry/disappointed/proud”. You can also substitute Batman for the word father.