Regular readers know that I am the mother of two amazing little guys, whom I have nicknamed Mayhem and Destruction for the purposes of this blog. Those that follow me on twitter will occasionally catch tidbits of my adventures in parenting, as I try to hold on to my sanity and they bounce happily off of the walls.
Like any other woman, my motherhood is a disciplined identity. To be understood as a “good mommy”, I must perform certain tasks with a happy Stepford Wife smile and a bottle of purex in my hand. When I first became a mother, I diligently tried to play the role of “good mommy” as constructed by society. In time I learned that it was impossible and began to embrace the times when I was less than perfect. I am now convinced that the “perfect mommy” construction is just one other role created to keep women performing and devalued. No matter what we attempt, there is always someone lining up to tell us all of the ways that we are screwing up.
I firmly believe that it is time we non conforming mothers come out of the closet with our lack of perfection. Like all little ones, my guys love to be read stories. Hoping to instill a love of reading in them, their father and I purchase books for them on holidays and birthdays. We also make frequent trips to the library so that the boys can be exposed to different books. With all of the reading selection to choose from my little guys occasionally fixate on a book from somewhere between six months to years.
Mayhem has thus far fallen in love with two books. I have read Panda and A Tiger Came To Dinner, until I am blue in the face. He has them memorized so we cannot even skip a page. The stories are incredibly boring, with terrible illustrations and yet he demands that we read them several times a day.
It has gotten to the point where I now occasionally hide them for a few days when the thought of reading about tiger going to the movies gets to be too much for me to bear. I really don’t care that Panda is rolling down the hill he he he.
I know that hiding a child’s book is not the nicest thing to do but I simply cannot take it anymore. Mayhem will look around the house and eventually find the books, starting the whole process all over again because I don’t have the heart to get rid of them permanently. It would not be so bad if either one of them were into a cool book like Fudge, Ramona, or The BFG. These are books that I could read over and over again.
The unhusband cannot stand loud toys and has been known to take batteries out of them when his nerves are about to fray. Of course, little Mayhem or Destruction will report that the toy is broken and he like all “good daddies” promises to fix it in a couple of days. I remember one toy in particular, a clown that somehow stayed broken no matter how hard daddy supposedly worked on it. What sucks must about this is, that one he does “fix” said toy of course he looks like super dad the hero.
At any rate, I am sure we are not the only parents who are naughty…fess up folks. Yes we love our children but sometimes sanity has to come first.