Super Cool Fun Mom? Um, No.

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So, I read something interesting recently… that blonde actress that looks exactly like a younger, prettier Chelsea Handler… what’s her name? She plays Alec Baldwin’s wife on “30 Rock?” She was also in that “Mitzy and Marvin Make a Porno” movie?? COME ON people, you know who I’m talking about! Fine, I’ll go IMDB it. Hold.

ELIZABETH BANKS.

So I was just reading that Elizabeth Banks said that when her kid (who was just born last spring) turns 15, she wants to take him sky-diving, simply because she “wants to be the kind of mother who takes her kid sky-diving.” And my reaction was, “Really E. Banks? THAT’S the kind of mother you want to be? The kind that will voluntarily jump out of a plane with your kid? Free-falling into space with your son is the extent of your parenting aspirations?”

But I get it…. I know what she means. She wants to be Super Cool Fun Mom! Duh. Don’t we all? (Except maybe Natalie Portman. I don’t think she’ll go for the “Fun” angle.) And while I don’t want to be too harsh on E. Banks because I actually think she’s funny and maybe we would probably be best friends if we ever met (that is, if she doesn’t get super-jealous of my other BFF Sandy Bullock), I think that as her kid gets a little older, she may alter her goals a bit.

For instance, when my first kid was born, I was all, “I’m going to be that awesome Mom who’s like best friends with her daughter, but totally still has her utmost respect! And I’m always going to wear make-up!” Geez, was I an idiot. Now, I realize that parenting goals need to be a bit more realistic. (And also that if I’m wearing lip balm, it’s a good day.)

So what kind of Mom do I want to be, you ask?

  • The kind of mother that doesn’t snarl at my kids when they wake me up in the morning. Because they’re hungry.
  • The kind that doesn’t pray they say “cereal” instead of “eggs, bacon and toast” when I ask what they want for breakfast.
  • The kind that can resist saying, “Please don’t walk through the puddles/mud/swamp… you don’t have your rain boots on.”
  • The kind that encourages creative expression instead of saying, “Um, what’s that supposed to be exactly?”
  • The kind that can play “Let’s Go to the Pet Store and Buy a Puppy” for more than three minutes before saying, “OK, Mommy’s going to have some reading time” and pulling out my Entertainment Weekly.
  • The kind that never says, “No, we CANNOT play outside. Now sit down and watch TV.”
  • The kind that can prepare a meal for my kids that doesn’t include anything that comes from a box (tricky!).
  • The kind that can embrace the bedtime routine instead of saying, “PLEASE can we NOT sing f***ing ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep’ just this ONCE?”
  • The kind of mother that doesn’t spit on my fingers to clean their faces.

Ultimately, I want to be the kind of mother that doesn’t lose her shit… ever daily every hour every time my kid has a def-con 10 meltdown because I just gave his favorite sippy cup to his brother. Or because I won’t give him two candy bars for dinner (yeah, I said two). Or because I want at least 65% of her skin covered in 30° weather. Or because… need I go on? I just want to be the kind of mom that holds it together. MOST of the time. Is that too much for my kids to ask? No. Is that really freakin’ hard? Yes. Can I get an Amen? Thanks.

Being “Fun Mom,” in the long run, would be a bonus. Being “NOT Psychotically Short-Tempered Mom,” for now, is good enough.

And please note, all of the above were merely hypothetical situations. They do not happen in my house. Daily.

K, bye.

E. Banks, please don't jump!

PS. No matter how fun I get, I’ll never voluntarily jump out of a plane. That’s just dumb.

PPS. I know I’m sort of totally abusing the strike-through. But I really like love want to marry it.

PPPS. I’m still working on a better regular sign-off than “K, bye.” I’ll have some other options for you in the next day or so. (There’s that crazy suspense again…)

3 responses »

  1. Wait a minute! Losing your sh*t is a part of parenting. Kids take a sh*t, you lose your sh*t. Right??? I mean, if that is not right, I am doing this mommy thing all wrong.

  2. I knew that my “fun mom” ship sailed the first time I locked my kids out of the house in the backyard. My mother locked me and my brother outside regularly…and I remember looking down at my first newborn son, thinking with so much love, that I would never subject him to that. Fast forward about six years…and the click of the lock is so delightful….trumps all else.

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