Before they were born I envisioned spending loads of quality time with my offspring. We would hike to the tops of mountains, swim in quiet waters and lie peacefully watching clouds roll by. Every so often they’d ask a question. I’d ponder momentarily, drawing together lines of thought from sources disparate as biology, the Bible, and Beatles lyrics before enlightening them with my erudite words.
“You’re so smart, Mommy,” I imagined them saying. “I understand now.”
“Also,” I heard their little voices intoning, “Thank you for bringing us with you on this adventure. It has been educational and enjoyable.”
Instead they grouse from the edge of the public pool, snarly because of uncooperative goggles and downright pissed at not being allowed to perform belly flops upon their siblings’ heads before spending the entire ride home wishing for more, something more, anything more, always more.
“Now that we’re done at the pool can we go to Chuck E. Cheese,” they wheedle from the back sea, bellicose and querulous in their damp towels. “I want some french fries! When can we go to the splash park? Can Nicholas come over for a slumber party? Can I have cookies for lunch? You should buy us some Moon Sand. Why can’t we order pizza for dinner? Can I have a popsicle? Are we going to take tumbling classes? We haven’t gone to McDonald’s forever,” and on and on ad nauseam, to the point that I’ve stayed mute to their plaintive requests until one of them parrots back the words I’ve said so many times before: “Mommy’s already spent lots of money on summer activities. We should be happy about what we have and not ask for more.”
Clearly I should have devoted more of my pre-motherhood time in fantasizing not about hazy-hued mountaintop scenes but instead about how to instill in them some gratitude. Eight weeks into this interminable summer it feels like all I do all day long is ferry these little ingrates from place to place, and you know what? The Mom Taxi is just about out of gas.
Help!
Fuck if I know. I’m about ready to pack everything my kid owns up and let her earn it back item by item. Including clothes. Let her chose from two outfits each morning instead of changing her mind about her wardrobe 12 times b/w brushing her teeth and getting out the door. She’s not even 5…
I feel your pain. Truly.
OMG! My sister actually did this to my niece! After yet another huge arguement about the horrible injustices in her daughter’s 14yr old life, my sister had finally had it. She cleaned out her daughter’s room of everything but the bed, desk, bedside lamp, and dresser. I think she left the clothes, but my niece spent the rest of the summer earning her possessions back.
Makes me glad I have cats.
Oh, you took the words right out of my mouth!!
It’s never enough.
And, I have this one too … “I hope my sister never comes back from Girl Scout camp. I like it much better when it’s just you and me.”
BTW .. I have dress up clothes for your fashionista. Will contact you.
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ’0 which is not a hashcash value.
I wish I could tell you it gets better when they’re older.. but having just returned from a trip to New York city with my 16 and 18 year olds.. it really doesn’t.
No, it doesn’t. If anything, it’s worse with teenagers, because they want even more and more expensive things. And they can be truly professional whiners.
I did enjoy saying “no” as cheerfully and creatively as possible though. For some reason, if I could turn them down with a smile on my face and a chipper tone of voice, one, it irritated them even more (yes, I’m that petty) (you should have seen the rolled eyes), two, made it easier for me, and three, ultimately made for a better experience all around. Everyone seemed to get along better.
Not that it was always easy to keep my temper. Oy.
“’I’d ponder *monetarily*, drawing together lines of thought …”
Did you intend to write *mo·men·tar·i·ly*?
Just checking. I like the notion of ” monetary pondering” and see such as a topic for another blog post.
Love your blog,
Jake
Whoops! Yes! Correcting it now!
Thank you Jake!
“…. a question. I’d ponder mometarily, drawing together lines ….”
Hi, AAG,
At the moment, momentarily, that is, is missing an “n.”
Reminds me of when I walked into a video store and asked to purchase a copy of “Mento Man” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0209144/
while thinking about the peppermint candy Mentos. http://www.mentos.com/
Hope you feel stronger. No one, especially you, should mistake your gentle kindness for weakness, not even momentarily. Seriously.
Jake
Not knowing WTF “moon sand” is, I looked it up. It is like the Gak of my day (from Nickelodeon, a substance that has the consistency of snot and makes fart noises if you press your finger in it when it is in a container).
Anyway, my mom had us make our own Gak. Here’s how to make moon sand, according to the Interwebs: http://www.ehow.com/how_5117763_make-own-moon-sand.html
Granted, there’s no figurines and shapes and other accessories with homemade moon sand, but maybe put some stickers or draw on the container? McDonalds toys they already have as accessories? Cookie cutters around the house to use with the moon sand? Song and dance to make it seem like a commercial product?
Cart them off to a local farm to help out the fields and gardens. Occassionally I take my kids to thier Grandparents to get a taste of what my life as a child was like. Pool priviledges were earned as was McDonalds.
Weeding a garden, picking and snaping the beans, picking and shelling the peas, chasing chickens and cows, mucking out their pens. Its a humbling experience that makes one grateful for what they have.
My kids do enjoy it but would not do it on a daily basis. Its a huge eye opener for them.
Hell if I know. I’m still reeling from my son’s birthday a couple of years ago, where he cried (in front of people no less) because he didn’t get every. single. item. on his list. Nevermind all the money and gift cards in addition to the gifts…
My solution, such as it was, was to have him research charities, pick one, and donate 10% of his birthday stash. I’ll let you know if it worked in November, when his birthday rolls around again.
My suggestion might be to have them volunteer with you feeding the homeless at a soup kitchen. It’s a humbling experience for everyone.
I often dread summers because it highlights the absolute NEED that my child has for me, which can be really overwhelming to me. And I only have one, so I can only imagine what that feels like when you have a crew of them who are needing (because with kids – everything is a need!) something at every turn. I feel for you!!
xo~Sadie
Dealing with kids in the summer, to me, is like the pull of “do I or don’t I cheat” — during the school year, I long for freedom from the schedule; during the summer, I long for the certainty of the schedule. By the way, just discovered your blog recently and I love it!
Nodding.
And then one day, they turn twenty. One day, they walk into your room, find you sobbing over your arms because you best friend has a serious, serious disease. These babies you once burped, now towering over you with facial hair and muscles, wrap their arms around you. Comfort you. Offer you words of solace, and “it’s gonna be all right.” They pat your back and kiss your hair.
And all the sacrifice is worth it.
If it’s any solace, when I moved to college I became much more aware of (and appreciative of) what my single mom sacrificed for her kids. I won’t ever, ever stop thanking her.
As a nanny, I would advise giving them a budget each week for summer activities or toys. (Even just one week as an exercise) If they are too young to properly count money, just give them say, 20 pennies (or whatever real dollar amount that represents) and have them portion them out to activities: i.e. 4 for swimming, 5 for a trip to McDonalds, 1 for gas to the library, etc. When the play money is gone, they will know the real budget is gone, so it will be easier to set a hard limit that they can accept, and then they can look forward to next week.
That’s a good idea.
That’s a really good idea.
Also, yes – a lot of kids realize after they hit 20 or so just what their parent(s) did for them all those years. God knows I had that moment in college.
It does get better, aag – eventually :D