My Annual Mom Application or This Position Still Open?

To whom it may concern:

I heard your organization had an opening for Mom and I would like to apply. I believe that I possess many of the qualities you are looking for in a candidate, as you can see from my resume which I have enclosed.

Your job description listed several required qualifications, including personal shopper, cook, baker, chauffeur, office organizer, housecleaner, seamstress, artist, mind reader, psychologist, funeral director, gardener, nurse, doctor, handy man, hair dresser, writer, personal assistant, copy editor, event planner, decorator, grief counselor, mathematician and personal trainer. While my academic history does not support all of these qualifications in a traditional sense, I feel as though my experience makes up for what I lack in the classroom.

For example, I can perform under pressure and take criticism. These are not skills that can be learned in the classroom. Once I found myself in a situation where dinner needed to be made, one son had to be taken to a concert and another son had homework to do before said concert. In the midst of this, it was discovered that a pet hermit crab had died. My first response was to throw it in the garbage and immediately I was rebutted. I handled the criticism well and completely changed tactics to ones of empathy and gravity. While cooking tacos, I crafted a make shift coffin for the crab and we held a eulogy over dinner. I am proud to say we still made it to the concert on time. This was a great learning experience for me. Clearly I was insensitive for considering that dead hermit crabs should be disposed of in the garbage (honestly my first instinct was to flush it in the toilet but I reconsidered – perhaps that is only an appropriate burial for fish. What would the Little Mermaid do?) I am glad I had an opportunity to understand the very human characteristics of hermit crabs and why they are such sensitive pets that deserve our utmost respect. I believe this example not only showcases my ability to work under pressure but to also learn new skills in a rapidly changing environment. Additionally, the coffin was showcases my artistic ability with limited supplies.

I understand that a certain personality type is desired for the position of Mom. She must be fun, patient, spontaneous, loving, kind and smart. I believe I will bring my unique spin to this position if chosen as your ideal candidate. I believe that while being fun, Mom must also balance responsibility. She must be patient but also know when it is time to hurry. She must be smart but humble enough for you to teach her new facts you learned at school and from your friends. She must be quick to laughter. I will admit that this can sometimes be a weakness for me as I have accidentally laughed when one of my sons was stung by wasps, although in my defense it was the second time it had happened that day and was following a “I hate nature” monologue of that son just said prior to the second stinging. I like to frame it as lending levity to an unfortunate circumstance. In my past, I have tried to find ways to mix fun with life’s mundane routines. An example is an initiative I call Wake Up Wednesday, where I make breakfast on Wednesday mornings, also known as Hump Day, to break up the routine school week. I appreciate that too much fun can sometimes hurt the bottom line so I have found inexpensive ways to motivate, such as the rule that if there is a new kind of Oreo, you must purchase it. This inexpensive incentive costs a mere $3 and can lighten any grocery trip. Currently I am on the hunt for the Cookie Butter Oreo. We shall not speak of the Root Beer Float Oreos, the only time this fun game has backfired.

During my research into your organization, I have learned that you expect perfection, regardless of the circumstances. I have heard that you do not tolerate tardiness or insubordination. Serving the wrong cheese or “demanding” that you do your homework will not be tolerated. Frequent performance reviews are common in your organization and one must not be crushed by such mundane pressures as being in two places at once. Hours are 6 a.m. until 10 p.m. and of course a 24-hour on call rotation every day. I appreciate that you do not have a non-complete clause, which will allow me to have a full-time job in addition to this one. From the contract that I have reviewed, it looks like you only take 98% of my earnings should I take a “second” job, which seems reasonable.

In closing, I know you have many candidates to consider for the prestigious position of Mom. I hope my qualifications are competitive. I will follow up on my application before bedtime stories tonight. 

Thank you for your time and consideration – I know that you are very busy catching up on the same season of Gravity Falls for the fifteenth time and catching Pokémon with your phone.

Sincerely,

Jenny, MBA (Mom of Boys Alone)

Black, White and Rainbow or I've Messed Up

I’m not entirely sure how to start this blog. I hate being cliché and talking about what everyone else is talking about, but sometimes you realize that you’ve been messing up and you just want to let people know about it.

I’ve had difficult conversations with my kids. We’ve talked about gay marriage, drugs, smoking and safe sex. I’ve tried to be up front and approachable so that they can always come to me with questions. We’ve established the Four Golden Rules: Always respect women; Don’t smoke; Don’t do drugs; Always practice safe sex. And I thought if they followed those rules and we talked openly about the hard conversations, they wouldn’t do anything that could royally screw up their lives.

But I’ve omitted a topic that frankly, I didn’t want to talk about. I haven’t been talking about race and discrimination. If I’m being honest, I thought I shouldn’t have to talk about it. Racial discrimination is mostly a thing of the past right? We don’t see it other than isolated incidents and those we can attribute to the outcasts in society, anomalies. We see Nazis in an Indiana Jones movie or in the Blues Brothers and we make it clear that we too hate the Illinois Nazis! But those movies are from the eighties – that kind of ignorant idiocy doesn’t happen anymore. Except that it does.

As a white American who wants to believe the world is better than it is, I’ve been privileged in that I can ignore the ugliness of the world. Why teach my children about race? We see everyone as equal in our family. In fact, we see everyone as equal so much that we don’t even need to talk about it. And that’s where I’ve fucked it up. For some reason, I thought I needed to be clear about smoking, drugs, sex and women so I’ve talked about those things. I didn’t want to talk about race. I assumed that if I didn’t preach hate and discrimination, then my children would just know that “we don’t do that.”

But kids don’t learn anything by the absence of teaching. Silence teaches nothing. If we don’t talk about it, someone else will and who knows what they are going to say. I need to control the message. We live in an age where we know about everything that is happening in the world. Horrific events are now live streamed on Facebook. We have found new ways to insult people anonymously online so we can still seem like decent people in the flesh. And I’m watching the nightly news and seeing the fucking Nazis walk among us. Oh, I’m sorry. Alt-right. Because rebranding hate makes everyone feel so much better. Well done marketers.

I’ve sat back passively for too long. I don’t get involved and talk politics much. I don’t know why – maybe because I don’t think I could have a respectful conversation with someone if I so strongly disagree with their beliefs so instead I opt to stay quiet. I’m going to have to learn how to get better at that because too many of us have sat back and let others do the talking. Look at where we are. We went from a black president to white supremacists walking openly in the streets. Did I contribute to this with my silence? You bet I did.

What can I do to change the world? I am one person but I’m raising two boys that will impact people around them. Their actions will affect those around them either positively or negatively. It is my civic duty to teach them wrong from right, to teach them proactively what our values are instead of thinking they would just pick up on the fact that we don’t hate people based on their skin color, their religion or who they love.

Why is this so difficult? Why can I talk about condoms and STDS and where babies come from but I can’t talk about the struggle for people of color? I’m afraid I’m going to mess it up. And I’ve got to get over that. Look, I mess up parenting regularly. If I could have a “best of” reel of my mistakes, we could watch for days. The one thing I know about parenting is that I will probably screw something up today. But what’s great is that if you are open and honest about messing up, kids will usually give you another chance. Through trial and error, I’ve learned to be a better sideline parent. I’ve learned that analogies should not be used in sex talks. (No glove no love? Glad we caught that one before my kids wore mittens in the bedroom.) We’ve talked about gay marriage and how people can love whoever they want – we will not judge love in our house. But I’m very anxious about talking about race because as a white woman, I’m sure I have committed microaggressions of my own. Does this mean I shouldn’t try to do my best to have discussions about race? Nope. I’m going to forge ahead. 

I’m going to mess up. That’s guaranteed. But maybe the more conversations I have, the better I’ll get at it. I’m sure I’ll need re-dos. Heck, my first sex talk was a disaster but I’ve gotten better at it. You have to start somewhere. At least now I’ll be trying and my kids won’t wonder where I stand on issues of race, religion and orientation.  

What’s that going to look like in our house? It looks like us driving in the car and I’m going to bring it up out of the blue. We are going to talk about it at the dinner table or while we watch TV. I don’t need to wait for a segue or a news clip about race to talk about it. People talk about God openly in their houses; we can talk about race, religion, and orientation openly. It’s time we start preaching our values instead of thinking they will passively become installed in their brains. I’ve made that mistake long enough. It’s time I get over my discomfort. Pretending the world is a different place than it really is simply because I wish it were so is naïve and no one has time for wishful thinking. Maybe if we have those talks with this generation we will eventually get the world that we want. One where everyone really does accept everyone for who they are. Love wins.

Eat Your Grits or Lessons Learned...Again

One of the toughest parts of being a parent is being brave when you know your kid is going through a hard time.

They say that everything happens for a reason. I say that’s bullshit. You cannot convince me that babies die, people get cancer, people are raped and nature destroys lives and it’s all for some “reason.” No. However, I will argue that there is always something to be learned. Sometimes you learn the depths of sorrow, sometimes you learn how to appreciate what you have, and sometimes you learn grit.

This weekend the Moose broke another bone,which is turning into an unfortunate fall tradition. For a second year in a row, he will not be able to play his all-time favorite sport – football. It is what this kid lives for. And he’s good at it. It is genuinely fun to watch him play and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it feels really good when you hear your kid’s name on the loudspeaker for making the play. My chest swells. And now he gets to sit out another year.

God bless him. He doesn’t cry because of the pain but he cries from disappointment. And my heart breaks. It really does. It is so hard to be the cheerleader when you know he is hurting. It is hard to be brave and encouraging when you want to be swallowed up with sorrow for your kid. But being a parent does not give you the luxury of wallowing. Being a parent means womaning up and pushing forward. Quiver and cry as much as you want on the inside but it is game face on the outside. I know vulnerability is the rage – and I’m not saying you shouldn’t be vulnerable.  But there are times you simply have to be the rock. Later when the moment has calmed down, you can tell them how you feel. They should know that you are scared and sad too. But in the thick of it, be the parent.

At night, I went into the Moose’s room and laid down next to him. In the dark, I felt tears on his cheeks. We talked. How it isn’t fair that he is missing another year of football. But there’s something to be learned from moments like these – it’s just that we can’t see it now. And he says, “I get that. But Mom, this is the second time the same thing has happened. Why would this happen twice if it’s because I’m supposed to learn something? I learned it last year.”

It was a great question. I had to think about it for a bit. Why would the same thing happen twice? Last year he was a total champ. He didn’t complain. He was a leader on the sidelines. We got compliments about how he was such a champion on the bench. Great. Way to go Moose! You rocked a crappy moment. You are right – why the heck do you have to relive this again? It isn’t fair. I agree.

So what is there to learn from the exact same lesson? I whispered to him, “You were born for greatness. Your name means greatest. You are going to change the world someday. You might cure cancer or teach inner city kids. Who knows. But you will change the world. And that’s not going to be easy. Over and over you are going to be met with resistance. You are going to get knocked down. Because changing the world is important. And nothing important is easy. Maybe you are learning how to deal with repeated disappointment and how to keep going. Not playing football one year is one thing. But having two seasons in a row on the bench is a whole other level of disappointment. How you deal with it is how you will learn to deal with the hard things in life.

You can sit there and feel terrible and wallow in it. And you can do that today. But tomorrow morning we are not going to talk about how you have to sit out another season. We are going to talk about what you can do. You can lift weights. You can bike. You can work on your core. You can work on your flexibility. You can use this moment to get stronger, physically and mentally. You see there are two types of people. There are people that are frozen when bad things happen to them. It’s all they can think about. And there are people who get up the next day and say ‘what can I do’ instead of ‘look at what I can’t do.’ You are always going to be moving. You may not be moving in the same direction you started, you may have to juke and change up the plans. But you are going to keep moving. Plan A didn’t pan out. You are going to kick the shit out of Plan B. Because that’s the kind of people we are. And if you are going to change the world, this is who you will have to be.”

I rubbed his head and crept out of his room. And I thanked my stars that the worst thing that my son can fathom is being out a second season of football. He has not imagined cancer, a death of a parent, losing friends and family even though they are alive, or losing himself. So I honor that this is the worst thing to happen to him and acknowledge that it will not be the worst thing to happen to him.

And I thought, is there a lesson in this for me? I was crushed he wouldn’t be able to play this year. And I have to remind myself that I’m disappointed for him, not for me. That sports do not define him and his performance is not my identity either. Sports are not the most important thing, even if the 13-year-old boy believes it. And that I need to respect the strength of his feelings. This is also a good reminder for me that we always move forward, even if forward is in a different direction than we anticipated. There are going to be other moments where I have to be brave and sensitive simultaneously as a parent. This has given me good practice because I know this is minor for what is yet to come. I would be kidding myself if I thought dealing with a broken bone in 8^th grade football is the worst of what I’ll see.

They say that grit is actually the characteristic that is most predictive of success. The definition of grit is courage and resolve; strength of character. You can’t have courage without having to experience fear and challenge. You can’t have resolve without having to go through adversity. How we handle life now gives us practice for when things get even harder. And this is a lifelong practice. As much as it sucks, we all need to have opportunities to be courageous and resilient. We can’t get better at it without these experiences. It looks like the breakfast of champions isn’t Wheaties. It’s grits.