Wednesday, October 20, 2010

8 Reasons I'm a Better Mom than My Mom

Excuse me, but what is this death contraption?  I can only imagine the conversation that occurred when they decided to let me sleep in this.  “Oh, metal poles with smaller metal poles holding up a vinyl seat?  There’s no way this could ever come apart and gouge her eyes out.  What’s that?  Oh, she’s slumping...just stick a block under her cheek.”

This is just salt in the wound.  It wasn’t enough to put me in a swinging guillotine.  Let’s continue the trend in the car!  Notice the “safety restraints” are not buckled.  I can only hope the car wasn’t moving.  (I’ll forgive my mom for the fact that I look like I haven’t been bathed in days and am wearing clothes I borrowed from a homeless person.  We had been fishing right before my parents loaded me into this moving death trap.)

Happy 2nd birthday!  Just for you, our sweet little girl, we’re going to hire a pedophile clown (he took his make-up off because if you can believe it, I was screaming even harder when he was made up) with a pedophile dummy.  Isn’t this fun?  (I still hyperventilate when I’m within fifty feet of a live clown.)

What is this about?  Do I look like Cinderella?

Again with the borrowing clothes from a homeless person.  I’m pretty sure I was trying to run away in this picture, but I couldn’t pull up the garage door because of those damn mittens.  Notice: I was already modeling RESPONSIBLE motherhood by taking my Cabbage Patch doll (christened Anna Nicole by me) in my bike basket.

I’m an only child, and it was definitely on purpose.  My mom refused to go through labor again, and my dad got a vasectomy when I was two, despite the fact that everyone around them thought they were crazy.  The result?  I had to play bingo with my dolls.

My mom let me leave the house like this.  And then she took pictures.  Not only are my bangs the most ridiculous thing EVER, but I’m wearing a HUGE t-shirt tucked into a pair of gym shorts.  If my memory serves me, I think I was wearing flat brown huaraches from Payless, too.

Two words: competitive dance.  I know I said I loved dancing when I was little, but seriously...this is PROOF that my mom wanted me to fail at life.  This particular picture is from a dance to the song “Walk the Dinosaur” with which our group won local, regional, and national competitions because you know--cavewomen were all the rage in 1989.  I could fill up pages and pages with pictures of me in ridiculous costumes, giant hair, and caked on make up, but I can’t bring myself to look through anymore dance pictures.
(I dropped Will on concrete when he was three months old.  I burned Ben’s leg on a motorcycle last month.  I let them eat candy for breakfast and potato chips for dinner.  I seat them at the table with bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and turn on cartoons, so I can ball up on the couch and go back to sleep for fifteen minutes.  I didn’t sign Will up for soccer this season because I didn’t want to get up early on Saturday mornings.  I let Will choose his clothes all the time, and I probably won’t even stop him when he decides to go goth in 7th grade (many pictures will be taken).  And I fully plan on embarrassing them in front of their girlfriends when that day comes.  I consider it my duty.)


  1. Well, I feel better!

  2. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS POST!!!!!!! I really needed a good belly laugh tonight. My husband once again yelled from the other room, "What is so funny?" I replied, "I am reading that blog again."

    P.S. Do you mind sharing what happened to Will when you dropped him? I have always feared that!

  3. Ha. So good. Love the freaky dummy. Explains a lot, huh?

  4. This is a great post. I had the swing and no seatbelts for my kids too. We also had walkers, until kids kept zooming down the stairs in them. My nephew went off the back steps twice when I was babysitting him. (he is fine)
    I love your comments about your clothes, and the picture of the dolls playing bingo with you is priceless.

  5. Great pictures! It makes me tempted to look back at my old albums, but I know I will cringe too hard!

    Found your blog through Blogher. :)

  6. My parents saved that exact swing and then thought I'd want to put MY kids in it!!! We also don't do soccer since that involves early Saturday mornings. LOL!

  7. Love the pic of us in our cavewomen costumes! I can't believe we were burned with hot rollers, poked in the eyes with mascara wands, and STILL managed to have a great time and lots of smiles!

    P.S. I tried to run away too...with Odessa, my Cabbage Patch baby!

  8. the puzzle pieces are coming together, Leia...LOL least you had a car seat. I seriously don't think I ever had one. I remember sitting in the back of the brown Pinto playing dolls as we drove down the highway. Aaaaghhhh!!! And don't think I don't take pics of Reese knowing I am going to embarrass her later when she turns into a monster teen.

  9. Love the photos. You were seriously cute. Especially for an mistreated child ;)

  10. I've been converting an old box of slides to digital this week and I think I have some of these same poses. I'm hoping I there is one of us laying the back car window - we used to love that, because it was so warm. :)

  11. Hahahaha! I get very excited as an adult to discover ways that my mother actually wronged me (as opposed to all of the teenage "I hate her"s that were so unjustifiably swung about.) Like, hello, mother. It is TOTALLY not true that you can take "free samples" out of the Brach candy boxes in the grocery store.

  12. Great photos, all. Thank you for reminding me of the ways childhood wasn't just "the good ol' days." The swing, the carseat, the kitchen linoleum, the fear of clowns: all so very, very familiar {shudder}.