Ya know, in general, I think I'm a good Mum. I feed, clothe, and love my kids unconditionally. I am their biggest advocates. I'm a strong mother, raising confident, strong children. There are a lot of things I don't disclose on facebook or my blog, being a firm believer that no child should be able to grow up and find discouraging information on themselves when searching the internet during one of those random quiet teenage moments when they have nothing better to do. But I have to tell you about this bad-parent moment. Stick around, you may learn something.
Abby came to me in a quiet moment recently and snuggled into me. Seven year olds are good at that. I'm soaking those snuggles up before she discovers it's not a cool thing to do.
And then she turned to me and quietly said "Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, waiting to start again?"
A moment of hesitation and a touch of "WTF did my seven year old just ask me?" and I asked her to repeat herself.
"Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, waiting to start again?". Now if that wasn't the most profound and sad thing I had ever heard come from a seven year old. Again, stick with me, imagine that said with cute-puppy dog eyes looking up at me sadly through snuggles given with pudgey little arms. That's sad, right? At which point she stood up and walked away. Dragging her feet. Sadly.
See, right now, I'm feeling like the. worst. mother. ever. (Well worst, since I confiscated Jacob's Tamagotchi back in 2008, throwing it with a "HA!" up on top of the kitchen cabinetry, only to hear it go crashing down the back, where it can never.ever.be.retrieved from).
So this sits with me for a few days. I talk it over with Paul. We're confused. That is some seriously deep language coming from my 7 year old.
So life goes on as normal. I rise each morning, feet on floor, gym time, home (only then the sun rises, I can't wait for summer), work, eat, parent, bed and it repeats... until yesterday when I was at the gym, on the treadmill and a Katy Perry song comes on the big screen. Sick of this song. Fireworks. I've heard it 8000 times already. Walking on the treadmill, walking, walking. "Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, waiting to start again?" I stop.dead.in.my.tracks. and actually, seriously bad idea on the treadmill 'cos it keeps going. Katy freakin Perry lyrics? My seven year old was repeating Katy Perry Lyrics?
I guess I should take it for what it was. A serious 'wake up, you don't know it all, MUM" moment. How'd I not see that coming? And the ironic thing? I mentioned the whole thing to my 10 year old and I only had to get one sentence into the story and he interupted with "Do you ever feel so paper thin, like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?"
Cute puppy dog eyes, Braden, but I'm not being caught out by Katy Perry again.
laters
I'm excited for the class and am already signed up - such a great list of instructors. I'd so love the kit to go with it!