Unexpected (and odd) mom moments

I think most moms occasionally have those moments where we think, "why on earth did I sign up for this?" And most self-employed women have moments of wanting to trade our crazy juggling acts for regular, normal jobs. This week I had a day that combined the worst of both - instead of the relaxing morning I'd anticipated (before a day of nonstop appointments), I had to take Ben to the orthodontist to have his spring re-attached - for the 27th time, I believe. Since I'd thought it would be fairly quick, I hadn't brought work to do, so I ended up having 45 minutes to thumb through out-dated People magazines. (And while I appreciate knowing why Jon & Kate split up, I still had other things I needed to do!) I was already crabby as I drove Ben back to school, so it didn't help when he announced, "Oh, mom, you need to bring my dress clothes to school, it's final rehearsal for the drama team play." As we waited in the office to sign him back in, I envisioned frantically hunting through Ben's room, having to reach behind the rat cage for his crumpled white shirt, and meanwhile Ben stood as far away from me as humanly possible, since of course 8th graders would rather die than publicly acknowledge the existence of parental units.

We walked out at the same time, with me prepared to make an anonymous exit, and suddenly Ben came up to me and said, "Mom, sorry about that, but there were some cool kids in the office and it's sort of embarrassing to have your mother at school." I said of course I understood, turned to leave (without doing anything really embarrassing like waving or kissing him), and then Ben called out, quite audibly, "Bye, Mom, I love you!"

Needless to say, I barely made it to the car before I burst into tears. That one, unexpected gift made up for the 45 minutes at the orthodontists, in fact, it made up for the $400 band trip fee, the nights I sat up with him when he had stomach flu, and even the 12 hours of labor. What a great reminder of why I made the choices I've made - if I had a 'regular' job and a nanny to handle all my tedious tasks, I would have missed a wonderful moment. (On the other hand, I wouldn't have minded letting a nanny look for the dress shirt and clean up around the rat cage . . . oh well!) And if I'd never had kids, I wouldn't know how it feels to cry with joy because a 13-year-old said something to me that didn't begin with "Mom, I need . . . . . "

The Truth About Cats, Dogs, and Kids

All young animals eventually need to separate from their mothers - I try not to take it personally when my boys avoid my hugs, or give me monosyllabic grunts instead of answers to questions, and god forbid I ever touch them in public. But I can't help missing those days when they clung to my hand in public, crawled on my lap, or even followed me into the bathroom (anyone else remember those days of never peeing in private?) I realized the perfect analogy for the transition - I was talking to my girlfriend Danielle, whose son is about to come home for holiday leave from military training. She was trying not to feel too hurt that he was going to spend time with friends (and show off his uniform) before he hung out with the family, but she planned to make his favorite pot roast as an incentive, and I blurted out, "Teenage boys aren't dogs, they're cats; not willing to express any affection, but eventually coming home for food."

I've always been a dog person - I love that our beloved mutt, Lucy, follows me everywhere I go and seems to have no interest in anything but whatever her humans are doing. Cats are aloof and snooty, only condescending to acknowledge humans when food or other necessities are involved. So kids are like dogs until they hit puberty, then they become much more feline, and so I'll have to content myself with slobbery kisses from my dog, and the occasional texted 'I love you, mom' whenever the boys want me to do something for them! (However, my friends with older children assure me the boys will become affectionate puppies again once they have their own children, appreciate all our sacrifices, and need advice . . . I'm counting the days!)

1-800-PSYCHOMOM?

Two of my biggest challenges in life are computers and kids - I deal with them on a regular basis, I have no idea how they work, and they frequently frustrate me. I tend to stumble along and hope things will work out - "My hard drive is making a funny noise but it's not urgent", or "Yeah, I should call about tutoring/therapy/trying to find pants for them, but I'm swamped this week . . . "

However, yesterday I had no choice, my laptop was completely on the blink, and given how much time I spend working in the car while I wait for the boys at their various activities, this was like having a non-functioning right arm. So I fought through my fears (It'll take forever! They'll think I'm an idiot! I won't understand what to do and I'll cry on the phone with a total stranger!) and called the Apple Care number - a charming (and handsome-sounding) young man walked me through re-installing my system, without shaming me, and he even made an appointment for me at a local store to have the battery compartment screw fixed and the loose 'C' key re-attached. The best part? (Apart from my brandnew computer customer service agent fantasy?) It was quick, easy, it worked, and now I know what I'm doing!

So all I need is a 1-800 number for my kids. I can't help it, I'm always second-guessing myself; When is a reasonable bed-time for a 12-year-old? Where's the line between age-appropriate separation and unacceptable rudeness? How do I encourage good study habits? What do I say to an over-extended over-tired 15-year-old who moves understandably slowly in the morning? (Apparently, "Time to get up, you're going to be late" isn't correct, given the crabby reaction I got today!) I want to call some nice, understanding, handsome-sounding customer service agent who will walk me through all my conflicts, make me feel competent, and set up all the appointments I need (tutoring/therapy/trying to find pants to fit a short 12-year-old who won't wear jeans, and a lanky 15-year-old whose pants size is 30/34 except no one on the planet makes those!)

Until someone comes up with that hotline, I guess I'll muddle through like I usually do, call my girlfriends for advice and reassurance, and remind myself that our parents survived without internet, parenting books, microwaves, ziploc bags, or spanx . . . it could be worse!

If at first you don't succeed . . .

Sometimes you have to keep trying - with kids, work, training husbands, etc. And sometimes you accidentally stumble on a solution. So here are a few examples (of perserverance and accidental genius) to inspire or to reassure you . . .

- I hit the wall last week with general disrespect, messiness, bickering, complaining, etc. (you know, the usual) and finally got fed up enough to draw up a contract (listing privileges they now had to earn, and the behaviors I expected). The list itself wasn’t all that unusual, but what made it effective was that I posted it on the refrigerator – the thought of a friend or neighbor seeing it was mortifying, so now all I have to do is threaten to put it out again, and they improve dramatically!

- Post-it Notes came from an adhesive that didn’t work very well – things kept falling off, so the inventor repositioned it and voila!

- Meredith Wilson was a semi-successful bandleader whose biggest claim to fame was working on Tallulah Bankhead’s radio show and responding to one question a week with “Yes sir, Miss Bankhead.” He worked for 8 years on a little show about his hometown, and finally got it produced when he was 55. For non-theatre-buffs, the show was “The Music Man” – perhaps you’ve heard of it? – As someone approaching the big 5-0, I love this story of overnight success after over 30 years!

- One of the more memorable features of the original “Bob Newhart Show” was his distinctive fashion sense (using the term loosely – do you remember the orange plaid jackets with green houndstooth trousers?) Turns out the show had a wardrobe coordinator whom everyone adored, but who happened to be color blind – no one wanted to hurt the man’s feelings, and thus a look was born.

Moral of the stories: If I hang in there for years, I can turn accidents into success, and embarrassment is highly motivating!