Mother of Twins Can Brag Twice as Hard
BUT NOT CLEAR WHICH ONE HAS THE MOST BRAGABILITY
Tosh Daniels — Ridiculously rude comedy show star –
Or Jeff Lewis –Ridiculously rude reality show star.
THESE GUYS ARE RELATED, RIGHT?
Mother Bragging Guaranteed to Deliver Laughs
Situation comedy writers at CBS’s Gary Unmarried, go for the easy joke with this sure-fire Brag Gag:
Grandmother (Jane Curtin) talking to her Daughter:
You’ve got a real prodigy on your hands, Allison.
Allison (Paula Marshall):
Did I tell you she’s starting Mandarin lessons tomorrow?
Grandmother:
My granddaughter, the concert cellist who speaks Chinese…Oh, I can’t wait to whip that one out when my neighbor brags about her blind daughter who climbed Everest.
Out-bragging the mother of a blind girl. Hilarious every time.
Even Cute Shoes Can’t Save Me
I didn’t stay home with my children from birth to 5 years. Instead I chose the inverse plan because I believe the older your kids, the more you need to be around.
They don’t remember most of their babysitters or that they were in pre-school full-time, but at about 12, they started to notice my priorities and use the information against me. So since their teen years, I’ve been working more from home.
That means I can deliver forgotten cleats and math assignments midday, or pick them up whenever their arbitrary schedules demand. Then sometimes I get to hang out with them for possible glimpses into their secretive lives that accidentally spill out when their guards are down from exhaustion and sugary snacks.
In return, I give up some of the best things about having an office job: guaranteed lunch dates, a reason to shower, and of course, shoe compliments.
But even worse, I’m alone in the house a lot, getting a disturbing preview of my future, very solitary life.
While I’m not afraid to admit that there are many, many things I don’t like about being a mom, in particular, helping with homework and listening to bragging mothers, I am obsessed with thoughts of what exactly my life will be without my children.
Meaningful volunteer work, reinventing my old, tired self, more quality time with my husband – really? I’m wondering about the other 22 hours of every day.
By spending more time with my kids each year, I’ve simply set myself up to notice their absence all the more starkly when they’re gone. Cute shoes may not be able to help with this one, but I’ll keep letting them try.
Meet The Beatles — Again
I saw the Beatles on TV in their first Ed Sullivan appearance, (don’t do the math), and immediately after, packed away my dolls and stuffed animals, thinking I was mystically and forever altered. Four score and five years later, I know I was right.
So the gargantuan marketing efforts surrounding the latest evolution of The Beatles — from the ‘Yellow Submarine,’ psychedelic animation of my youth, to the video game CG world of today’s faux Rock Band — has set off a deep, tearful nostalgia in me.
If watching ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ and ‘Help’ doesn’t have much of an emotional impact on you, then you were born too late, and you have my sympathies. Because growing up with The Beatles was a gift of incredibly lucky timing that subsequent generations have not experienced.
I try to explain to my kids that they missed something so profound and important! And that years from now, they’re not likely to hear a L’il Wayne song or see a video of some American Idol winner and feel like they want to cry.
To snap myself out of my VH1-induced melancholy, I started thinking about how remarkable it is that these immortals — original symbols of teen-aged rebellion and harbingers of a generation gap that would last for decades — ended up with seemingly decent and loving kids.
And since most celebrity children are doomed to over-exposed and underachieiving lives, the Beatle children are all the more remarkable for their semi-anonymity. The ones that have gained notoriety, seem to have done so with a bit of talent and dignity.
Zak Starkey
Ringo’s son by his first wife is a solid drummer himself, and has given his father’s contemporaries, the two remaining members of The Who, a way to successfully keep performing without their beloved Keith Moon.
Stella McCartney
A respected clothing designer who hangs out with movie stars, her only real tabloid splash came when she was quoted as being critical of her father’s second wife.
Dhani Harrison
His shy performances and touching interviews for ‘The Concert for George,’ the 2002 tribute, were made even more moving by his startling resemblance to his dad.
Sean Lennon
Mostly seen performing with his band or dining with his mother.
There can’t be any superlatives that haven’t already been used to discuss The Beatles — as a group, as individuals, as the phenomenon.
But, just in case: nice kids.
No One To Fix It: More Adventures
Another email came today with news from Alzheimer’s Land.
“When I came into the kitchen, he was standing over the dog dishes trying to figure out what to feed them. In the microwave was a dinner plate filled with bacon, broken eggs on top and Italian Sweet Cream, all kind of half cooked together. Out on the counter was another plate with dried up eggs, I guess, and I don’t know what else. He was just standing there looking lost, and I don’t know how long he had been standing like that.
When I asked him if he was O.K., he said something like the system wasn’t working. He had that far-away look in his eyes. It breaks my heart. The dogs were happy to eat the mess in the one plate. Then in the lower oven where he keeps his instant oatmeal warm during the week, was another concoction of eggs, oatmeal and Coffeemate, again.
Now he’s just sitting outside with his head down and his eyes closed, holding his glasses. I almost called 911 before. I don’t know what I should do. Just wait and see if he comes out of it, or what.”
My mother doesn’t want to be told that this is her new normal, and that my dad won’t ever come out of it.
I’m supposed to tell her what to do.
Does Success Exist in Obscurity?
Maybe the whole Mother Bragging epidemic can be partially attributed to modern technology, plus our society’s obsession with fame. Or maybe it’s the insecurity born of the old question, “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?”
Because it seems there is no way to derive any satisfaction from our children’s accomplishments – or our own – if we simply keep the information to ourselves. If we don’t brag about it, maybe the ‘achievement’ didn’t really happen?
Even for those mothers who actually realize that their bragging will seldom if ever be met with the enthusiasm they’re looking for, it’s nearly impossible to not tell someone that Chris got the award, Reid got the promotion, Sara got the whatever.
And the bragging stakes have never been higher. Pre-school dance class is now a prerequisite for high school cheerleading which could lead to any one of a number of TV dancing talent shows, which could ultimately mean a movie roll or a country album!
Back in the day, high school homecoming queen/football quarterback was not only the top of the heap, it was definitely the end of the road. And for those old-timey, non-helicopter, stay-at-home, cell phone-less moms without their own cars, there was no efficient way to get the word out anyhow.
So we’ve come a long way on many fronts, and the unintentional consequences have included the exponential growth of MotherBragging. But let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that your child’s selection as school newspaper editor does not lead to Harvard or a book deal. Or their love for singing at two years old, does not equal Julliard, Broadway, or an appearance on Oprah. Or simply that the comp soccer may not mean a college scholarship.
That’s reality for the majority of us, who must accept that success, no matter how small, has big value — even if Oprah never hears about it.
Happy New Year
The Sunday before the first day of a new school year has become one of the most momentous annual events in my life.
I think for most parents, it should be considered the real New Year’s Eve.
January 1 seems random and insignificant compared to how much can change during the relatively underappreciated days leading up to New School Year’s Eve. Maybe this is the first summer your kids got along on the family vacation. Maybe your daughter finally learned the crawl stroke. Or your son got his first job. Or grew four inches. So there is much to celebrate.
In fact, by August, most of my mom friends are doing a Times Square ball dropping ceremony inside their heads, counting down the seconds until their children have something to do, out of the house, every day. But I find this night more melancholy than merry.
It’s not just climbing back on the hamster wheel of making lunches and checking homework and enforcing various eating and sleeping routines – activities easily capable of causing intense grief. It’s that nothing marks the passing of time more abruptly and starkly than the milestone of starting a new school year.
The elementary grades seemed like they would surely go on forever, but the time between 7th and 12th went by in a blur of braces, body hair and funny business. So whether it’s the first day of pre-school, last year of high school or somewhere in between, stop right now and actually see the sights, smell the smells and live in the moments you have left with your children.
Because with each new school year, their daily presence in your life is one year closer to being over.
How I Spent My Summer Vacation: Adventures In Alzheimer’s Land
“Growing old is a giant exercise in getting smaller. Not just your body, but your very life and ability to participate in it, shrink in lock-step with the size of the print on your numerous prescription bottles.”
This year when we stopped to visit my mom and dad in Reno en route to our annual Lake Tahoe beach vacation, it became immediately clear that my aging parents are entering a new phase of life, and therefore, so am I. My father’s war with Alzheimer’s is nearing its final few battles. And my mother’s diminishing ability to manage it along with her own failing health, means that for me, their only living adult relation, the beach will have to wait.
There’s such a selfish, shameful component to everything I feel — about spending my vacation with doctors, attorneys, bankers, contractors, cell phone companies — instead of reading a book in the shade of a giant evergreen on the shores of my childhood memories. And about all the hundreds of heart-breaking and time-stealing things that I will have to do over the next months and years — at the expense of my other family, my job, my health, my sense of well-being.
I don’t like my children seeing their grandfather like this. I don’t like the way they look at me or the questions they inevitably ask: Is this going to happen to you, mom? To us? They’ve heard me speak sternly, even harshly to both my parents as I try to temporarily take over everything they used to do for themselves and recreate a smaller form of it, something they might still be able to handle. Because I don’t want to be totally in charge of their lives yet. I still have quite a bit of my own that needs careful tending.
So is there a harsher, more punishing word for guilt? Even that would not begin to express what I feel as I drive away at the end of the week, after patching up my parents as best I can for now, leaving my father clutching his dog, muttering in his recliner, and my mom sobbing as she waves herself back into what is left of her existence.
It’s not that I didn’t see this coming. But I am still dreadfully, woefully and resentfully blind-sided.
A Bit Off Subject
Does anyone else think this looks just like Madonna?
Will I Find Time to Brag? Another List.
Issued by doctors, journalists, and especially Oprah, the warning is the same: do THESE IMPORTANT THINGS, or else…live unhealthy, unproductive, empty lives, then die young, wrinkly, and full of regret.
All THESE IMPORTANT THINGS are said to be fairly simple, and, with a little planning and discipline, take only a few minutes each to accomplish.
Not a big deal, right?
In order to fulfill my obligations to myself, my family and the world, I merely have to:
- Gag down a giant multi-vitamin, and calcium with magnesium, and Vitamin D, Omega 3s and iron twice a day.
- Exercise a minimum of 30 minutes, somehow including cardio and weights, every day.
- Meditate and give thanks for something every day.
- Wear sunscreen every day.
- Get 15 to 30 minutes of unprotected sun every day.
- Eat breakfast, preferably, slow-cook, steel-cut oatmeal, every day.
- Drink 8 large glasses of tap water every day.
- Read to my children every day.
- Read to myself every day.
- Have sex 3-5 times a week.
- Prepare, or organize other family members to prepare, a sit-down dinner every night.
- Shop local for fresh, healthy food at the lowest prices.
- Hang my clean laundry outside to line-dry.
- Help my children with their homework assignments, patiently.
- Assist my children with cooking and cleaning chores, which takes twice as long as doing them myself.
- Do volunteer work and get my whole family to participate.
- Do cross-word puzzles to keep my mind sharp.
- Wait up past midnight for my son to make sure he gets in safely and relatively on time, and so he knows he will always have to talk to me when he gets home.
- Watch for any suspicious activities in my neighborhood.
- Go to church.
- Plant a garden.
- Recycle and compost.
- Read parenting articles, the newspaper, and school newsletters and react to all the valuable information in a timely manner.
- Pay attention and understand all the household bills and family investments.
- Spend time with my parents who live in another state.
- Write thank you notes and sit on my children to do the same.
- Ride my bike to work.
- Remember to shop for, or better, create thoughtful gifts for Christmas, birthday and other assorted occasions for my friends, family and acquaintances.
- Have a date night with my husband once a week.
- Go away on vacations without my children.
- Plan and go on vacations that build memories with my children.
- Spend time with friends.
- Save money.
- Help in the classroom, drive on field trips, go to all parent/teacher conferences.
- Get my children to monthly orthodontia appointments so they aren’t in braces for decades, and I don’t get charged for missing appointments.
- Have annual mammograms, physicals and biannual dental exams and then make the multiple follow-up appointments to fix whatever is messed up.
- Get my kids to doctor appointments and be informed enough and sufficiently awake to remember to ask for the latest vaccinations, blood tests, and/or exams that I’ve read about.
- Take a 20-minute nap every afternoon.
- Make sure my kids are always too busy to ever make a bad decision or get in trouble.
- Attend all my kids’ performances and athletic events because if I miss one, they will remember
that I never came to any. - Do a great job at work and be willing to take on additional assignments during these tough economic times.
- Be there when my kids get home from school.
- Get 7-8 hours of sleep every night.
I know there’s more! What IMPORTANT THINGS have I left off this list?
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