Geek. Pirate. Mom

Back when I was a teenager and talking back to my mom, I said something about when I had kids, I’d be nothing like her.

She told me that I’d wind up with a kid like myself. I rolled my eyes.

Thankfully, that comment stuck in the back of my head, and I wondered if it was actually true. So as I got older, I watched kids and parents. By the time I was in college, it seemed obvious that the most volatile relationships were between the parent and child with the most similar personalities. (I feel bad for my mom. My sister and I are both like her, in mostly different ways. So she had to deal with the both of us)

So when the boys were born, I watched and wondered who they would be like. It was clear very early on that not only did the Oldest Kidlet look a lot like me, but that he was a lot like me, too.

He whines. Constantly. As a kid, my mom used to joke that it was because my name is “Whiney, but with a t in it.” He also has a short temper- which I did as well. I know that might come as a surprise to some of you, but it was something that my parents worked with me on. He is a perfectionist. Oh, is he a perfectionist.

Not that long ago we were doing the weekly word quiz, and the words have gotten progressively harder. We reviewed some of the tough new words he had on his list. Like “who” and “why” – words that don’t seem to follow the spelling and sound rules he’s used to. But we missed one. We hit that word in the quiz (which is a one-minute timed quiz) and he stopped and eventually got the word, but it ate up a good 15 seconds of time. So he didn’t make it through the words, and it became the end of the world.

After a lot of screaming (from both of us), I finally helped him understand that this test is just about training you to read faster, not about how many words you can read. I wanted to tell him I thought it was stupid, but decided not to- but I understood exactly why he was upset. I’d been in his position before.

I hope you don’t think I’m trying to make the case that it’s all bad. It isn’t. But when it’s bad… it’s beyond bad. Most of the time we get along well. We read books together that we both enjoy, and we have a lot of the same interests.

All the same, I’m very glad that the Little Kidlet and I don’t have much in common personality-wise. (Though we do have one very important thing in common. We love Star Wars, especially Darth Vader.

Oh, and Mom, I’m glad that I’m a lot like you. You were (and are) a great parent, even if I didn’t see it all of the time.

On this day, I’d like to take a moment to mention what I’m thankful for.

I am thankful for my family and close friends, who keep me sane. My mom is wonderful, and while we don’t see each other as often as we’d like, she’s almost always just a phone call away- whether it’s to help me get through a meltdown, or to gush over a TV show we both watch. My in-laws are just as important, as they’re the ones who put up with my madness (as well as the kidlets) on a daily basis and I love them all dearly. And Jerad! I’m thankful for him- everyone should have as great a best friend.

I’m thankful for my boys-though they keep my on my toes and have probably caused my premature graying, they truly are sweet kids. Full of love, full of joy, and full of a desire to discover new things. I’m thankful for TheBoy, whom I love thoroughly and who supports me in everything I do. And who works at a job that sometimes seems thankless because he wants to give us everything.

I’m hurriedly typing this while I do my current duty- keeping the living room clean. Later I’ll start mashed potatoes. And that’s all I’m doing today, other than eat. Mwahaha.

Happy Thanksgiving! May it be filled with warmth, love and some good food.

Update: I am also thankful for my dad, who used to give me lifesavers when I was having a rough time, and totally needs to start that up again. (That’s what you get for saying I didn’t mention you, Dad)

I have the coolest mom. Sorry, I don’t care what stories you share, my mom is the awesomest mom that ever was!

Every group of friends has that mom. The one who’s a bit younger than the rest of the moms, who can pull off the crazy hair cut or style, and just isn’t afraid to be herself. When I was in grade school, my mom had shoulder length curly hair wore the most stunning jewelry that she got from the artsy store in town and wore black. Okay, it was the 90s. Most people wore black. But boy, she did it with style. Then one day, she got most of it chopped off and went for a short cut. Not even a remotely matronly cut. It was spiky and her hair color? It was black with a purplish hue. Often, she’d complain that it just wasn’t purple enough.

In our tract house, she was one of the first people to repaint the trim. The rest were beige, brick red, or two shades of blue. Ours is a light green. Then, she painted the house. A beautiful pinky terracotta… okay, I can’t really describe the shade. But this is what the house looks like. And it suits her.

We have the same sort of humor. Puns and word play, often making up song parodies on the fly. We tend to go off on tangents (passing Tom Cruise* several times) and find that life is just more entertaining that way.

People love Lady Gaga because she shows people that they can let their freak flag fly. My mom taught me to do that years earlier. And I do, I fly my freak flag proudly. I wear band tees, cut my hair however I like it, wear way too much eye makeup for daytime and rock my gray hair even though I’m only 30. I sing in public, dance while I grocery shop, and encourage my kids to sing Queen along with me. I have fun. We have fun, really.

So what prompted this post? My daily phone conversation with my mom was definitely sillier than usual and it occurred to me that I’ve never publicly mentioned just how awesome my mom is because of this.

*passing Tom Cruise: When the 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon became a popular game, we were playing a variant of the game that had no set degrees. You could simply just keep connecting through celebrities to get where you needed to go. I was a little tired, and used Tom Cruise several times. So now when I go off on a tangent and can’t seem to get back to my original point, my family calls it “passing Tom Cruise.” Sorry, no real Tom Cruise stories here.