>> Thursday, August 12, 2010
It started back when we were very small and did little things, like rubbing our poop on the walls, mom would give us the evil eye then smile, so you barely notice the signs. Then, feeling stronger about our independence as a child, we cause a bit more trouble for our mom, like lighting the living room drapes on fire. Before you know it, mom is muttering chants under her breath and looking all wield eyed, hair standing on end.
And then it’s too late, after keeping her up all night waiting, you come home smelling like an ashtray with purple hickies on your neck. Mom starts screaming and waving her hands in the air, “I pray your kids put you through the same hell you’re putting me through… I thought you were dead… how dare you do this to me…just you wait one day you’ll understand! One day. One day you’ll get yours!”
And you cement the deal by screaming back…”WHEN I HAVE KIDS, I WILL LET THEM DO WHATEVER THEY WANT AND NOT TREAT THEM LIKE BABIES!”
While you’re crying in your room over being grounded until college, mom sits by candle light, holding your baby pictures in one hand and a large glass of wine in the other. With the complete power of the curse now unleashed, she knows all she has left to do is wait.
At first we as mothers are too stupid to figure out our fate, all goo goo in love with our sweet apple cheeked babies. Lack of sleep and adult contact keep us blind to what’s about to come. We get little clues here and there, like when mom drops by, sticks a sucker in the 12 month olds mouth, gives her a new puppy, and leaves.
When the curse starts having its hold over your life, your not sure what’s going on but you notice the signs: You find yourself saying the same things over and over. “Stop pushing your sister, Stop picking your nose, put your butt back in your pants, your making me crazy, we don’t use words like ‘ass cheese’ in this house, poop stays in the potty, don't make me beat you”.
Then strange things start to happen: Your bathroom floods after Buzz and Woody take swimming lesions in your toilet. You find your underwear all over the front yard attached to army men, after a game of paratrooper. Your “Personal sensual tingling” gel ends up on the neighbors cat.
You really know what’s going on when you call your mom crying because your teen keeps telling you your “overreacting” (a word he learned from grandma) to the dogs new Mohawk, and the cars new moon roof, to which your mother say. “Oh honey don’t be so hard on the kids, boys will be boys, you did crazy things when you were a kid and look how well you turned out.”
Yep, I’m sorry to say we have all been fooled. Motherhood is a curse and part of this curse is in the end, we turn into OUR MOTHERS!