The Glamour of Motherhood…by Jennifer Probst

Just a quick note to our loyal followers…the 4 bad mommies have been crazy busy – in a good way. Writing schedules and family demands have to come first. There may be more time between blogs but we are still here, and you can drop by anytime to comment. Stay tuned for more bad mommy moments and guest blogs in upcoming installments.

Ah, motherhood. The glamour and glitz of such an occupation is a continuous amazement.
Like food shopping. There’s nothing I enjoy more than when my two boys go running to the biggest cart ever invented with the squeaky wheel. They cram in together and beep the horn while I careen around corners and desperately try to keep from ramming into other humans. Last week, my son caught a cereal he had to have, launched himself out of the passenger door, and as I tried to slam on the brakes, I crashed into one of the displays and watched as boxes toppled all around us. Yeah. You gotta love it.

Then there’s the cooking. My boys have been obsessed with the Dr. Seuss Green Eggs and Ham cookbook. Cute, you think, right? NOT. As they mark endless pages and beg me to try new recipes, I shop for strange ingredients while concocting some bizarre meal and hope they like it. So far, we are a big fat 0 for five. Five whole recipes not eaten.
They insisted I make them a Ink shake. I agreed, it’s healthy. Blackberries on the bottom, a strawberry bananna shake on top. With some other stuff. So, I drag out the dusty blender and put it all together, pour them into two large cups and hand them over. The boys gaze at each other, slightly afraid. Finally, the older one takes a gulp, his eyes widen, and he literally spits the shake out of his mouth.
THe little one gulps in terror and backs away. The glass slips out of his fingers and crashes to the floor while I watch the ink shake seep into my wood floor. Needless to say, I lost my temper and vowed not one more recipe from that book would be tried. And they actually looked at me like I was the mean one.

Then there’s the usual public humiliations. My little one played t-ball and as he ran around the bases, he pulled at his crotch, and lo and behold, his pants went sliding down over his nonexistent hips and butt until he was half naked in a field.
The older one is quite verbal. When we went to dinner, one of our friends lost a leg in an injury a while ago, and we don’t even think about it anymore. I forgot how long it’s been since my oldest one saw him. Of course, he pointed and shouted in a crowded restaruant – “Mommy, where is his foot? Is he teasing us and playing hide and go seek?”

Oh. God.

or “Mommy I hate church!” in a hushed Sunday session. I grit my teeth and hiss “Don’t say that!” “Why not?” he peeps up. “You said never to lie and be honest. And I really hate it!”

Ah, well, I was never one to be glamorous anyway.

Stop by and keep me company. Any glamorous moments you’d like to share? Hit the number at the top and comment away!!

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