you probably didn't know there actually is such an award, that's because you never receive it because I keep earning it each day/week/month/year/lifetime, and apparently I don't give other mommies a chance to ever get it much. Usually, I am pronounced the lucky winner by my own precious darlings, who are all too anxious to announce that I am the winner yet again. Sometimes, they announce it just to me, but at other times they announce it in a public place so everyone around can share in my joy at receiving this honor yet again! funny, there's never any roses or a crown though, usually just a lot of stomping, grunting, or teeth grinding.
Sometimes another adult let's me know I've done it again - this is the most fun way to hear that I've won, especially with LOTS of over-the-top sarcastic sympathy for the poor wittle kid(s) who have the MOST terribly mean mother because she won't let them _____, or she makes them _____, or she won't allow _____, or she refuses to buy them _____, AND ESPECIALLY if those poor wittle darlings are standing right there seeing just how sympathetic we are to their plight.
I love reading Jana's blog, but I think I have even her beat, after all, I started years ahead of her (although I didn't start any "meanness" until I had 2 mobile children who could open doors/cabinets - there was no cause for meanness on my part before then)
The worst though is when I realize I've just done something that earns me the Bad Mommy Award. This is very different - a "Mean Mom" is actually a very good mom, or maybe just a tired mom who doesn't want to deal with a big mess at that moment, or maybe just a mom who met an old friend while running errands with oldest son and they had a good and pleasant visit catching up and she was a half hour later than she originally thought she'd be, but she knew that younger children were safe at extended day. A "Bad Mom" however is not good. It's when you (Mom) feel just awful about something you've done, you never meant it turn out that way, you never meant to forget something that was so personally super important to your child, or to trip and step on your child or fall down while holding your child, or to push/encourage your kid into something that turns out so horribly terrible and you feel lower than dirt especially if your kid is trying to make YOU feel better about it. Some of these are major life effecting things, most are hopefully just minor. My latest one involves Jacob's tooth.
Jacob lost his first 2 lost teeth - that is to say that when his first loose tooth came out, he lost it - literally, lost, couldn't find it anywhere - before he even got a chance to put it under his pillow that night. AND THEN when he lost his second loose tooth, the same thing happened - well not exactly the same way, but he was "robbed" of the wondrous childhood experience of putting his tooth under his pillow and sleeping on it and finding a coin in it's place in the morning.
One of the times we had been at a big church family activity at a riverbank and Jacob had held onto and/or kept track of his tooth, which came out while we were there, ALL afternoon and evening, and he had it clutched in his hand sitting in his booster seat heading home that night, but he fell asleep and it must have fallen out of his hand and I forgot about it and carried him to bed, but then remembered and I searched the car frantically for it FOR DAYS AND DAYS but we never found it - the tooth fairy is very understanding of these situations and still leaves a coin, but "it's just not the same Mommy, it's just not the same."
I think the other time was similar, but I can't seem to remember exactly - or did he swallow it? or was that Nathan? no, that was me when I was a kid. I can't remember what happened, just that it was so sad (really truly sad, not sarcastically sad) that it happened to the poor little guy TWICE. But that would be okay, eventually he could chock it up to a funny story to tell his grandkids, and he'd surely lose another tooth soon and then he'd get to have that childhood experience of putting it under his pillow and sleeping on it. TWO YEARS LATER, FINALLY a third tooth becomes loose!!!!! He's past the "every thing's so magical in life" stage. He's not completely out of it, but he's nearly there. And to add insult to injury, this third tooth doesn't come out quickly like the first two did, no, it stays there for quite awhile. Part of me wondered if he figured, "at least I KNOW where it is if it's still in there, and I can't LOSE it if it's still in there, so I'm in no hurry to wiggle it a lot like mom and everyone tells me to to get it out."
After 2 weeks, it seemed to just be hanging by a thread, and when Jacob wouldn't seem to put any effort into getting it out, I tried to pull it while he was asleep a few times, but I didn't have a good grip on it and he'd toss and turn and flip over on his tummy in his sleep to evade my efforts. Jessica stared reminding Jacob that Grandpa was an expert tooth puller and that it was always quick and never hurt when he took out her loose teeth but Jacob did not want to try that.
By 4 weeks, I had seen the new tooth trying to make an appearance but because the correct position was still occupied, the new tooth was coming through the roof of his mouth behind it, and shoving into that loose tooth in such a way that it had no wiggle room and it was becoming stuck fast at a crazy crooked twisted angle. Several times I had started trying again to pull it in his sleep, but it was much more difficult and he'd clamp his lips tight in his sleep and roll over. During the day I tried to make deals with him when he'd ask for something (a drink of water, dinner, a story, a pencil, to go to the bathroom) - I'd tell him I'd trade him for his tooth - "Sure, just hand me your tooth and you can have ____." or "Just hand me your tooth and I'll ____." or "Just hand me your tooth and I'll stop at ____." but he'd just give me that deer in the headlight look and I didn't deny him meals, water, bedtime stories, or restroom stops. Although I did turn down ice cream cones, his choice of a movie from the library, extra time on the computer, and some other extras because he wouldn't just yank the tooth out and hand it to me.
So far in this third loose tooth story I was just a mean (good) mom. But ...
On Sunday evening, we were sitting on Mom's couch and Jacob fell asleep leaning on me, and I tried yet again to grab and pull the tooth, and then I got Dad to slip his famous super quick, always works, doesn't hurt a bit tooth lasso around it while I carefully held Jacob's head still and his mouth slightly open, and Dad pulled, but ...
I guess Jacob/Dad wasn't at the correct angle, and the loose tooth was jammed in tight with the new tooth, and it didn't come out, and ...
The lasso had cinched up tight around the top of the loose tooth, up in under his gums, the remainder of the string hanging down from his mouth, slobbery blood dripping down it, and of course I was wearing my favorite light colored sweater and my laundry nazi instinct kicked in and I shoved Jacob out to arms length and tried to turn him around, and his eyes had snapped open and a bewildered in-pain boy wondered what had just happened? why he hurt so much and was bleeding? why his Mom, of all people, was shoving him away instead of holding him close? AND why were his grandparents and siblings all staring at him with looks of shock and or amusement on their faces - or outright laughing in Jessica's case?
Quickly, Dad got more string (it needed to be longer so he could wrap it around his hand) and I got Jacob on his feet in the correct position and Dad tied more string to the hanging string - both of us trying to soothingly tell Jacob it HAD to be done now and that it would be okay - all the while Michael and Nathan telling him things (some helpful, some neutral, some not helpful), Jessica kept laughing and thinking the whole thing was SO funny, and Mom of course grabbed the camera and tried to position everyone so she could get the pictures/angles she wanted, and Jacob, with his back to me, clutching to my arms which were wrapped around him, let his Grandpa pull (he had to pull HARD) the tooth out, and it flew away and hit something with a clink and went ... somewhere. And the blood really started coming then and the shocked pain look on Jacob's face got much worse and I tried to hug him from a distance, grab tissues/paper towels, AND organize a thorough and successful tooth hunt, all the while, whispering (hopefully soothingly) "I'm so sorry sweetie" to Jacob and telling him how good and how brave he was - he never screamed or cried out, just silent tears - and telling him how it was all my idea and not Grandpa's fault, and I felt like a horrible, terrible, BAD mommy.
But, somehow, in all that, I am the one who spotted the tooth!!! And Jacob got to put it under his pillow and sleep on it, and in the morning ...
There was a DOLLAR BILL!
Well, after all he'd been through it was the least she could do ...
But later, after his excitement had died down and everyone was about to leave that morning, Jacob suddenly said, "I'm going to check if that was a five. Or a ten!" and he ran back to check the drawer he'd put it safely in earlier but came back saying, "no, it's just a dollar," as he ho-hummed his way past me out the door. (apparently some classmates get fives, or tens, and one kid reportedly got a twenty! - I'm thinking that the tooth fairy was VERY sleeping and didn't notice the number on the bill she/he took from her/his wallet to put under the pillow. OR, the tooth fairy was out of cash and made a quick run to the ATM and there was no where to get change in the middle of the night in our sleepy little country town so it was the twenty or nothing. Unless it's that THAT kid had an even MORE tragic experience and guilt ridden parent.)
