Alright, so it turns out I may be a little addicted to you.
Yesterday, I was all moody and menstrual and bitchy. Plus, I hadn’t slept well for several nights. Plus, Mark wasn’t home to give me a break from the girls, who always pick up on my crabby energy and return it in kind. Plus, I had no pads, and I was too icky feeling to go to the store to get some, and if there is a thing in the world that makes me feel less desirable than fashioning and then using a sanitary pad of toilet paper?
I just cannot imagine what that might be.
Plus, a friend texted me to call me an ass.
Annoying.
Hmmph.
Usually on a day like that, I console myself with your lovely comments. I might be feeling all shitty and bitchy and horrid, and I might be uncomfily perched on a mound of Costco low-grade toilet paper, but you love me anyway. Bring on the small bits of approval and love!
Kris needs boosting.
But yesterday afternoon, and for much of last night, I had no internet connection.
It was not good, people.
I need an approval patch. Like a nicotine patch, but filled with approval.
It is a good thing that I am not regularly offered heroin, that’s all I’ll say.
Because I am pretty sure heroin is a lot like shooting up approval.
And I would like that.
Anyway.
Of course, if I had been all swoony and giddy and heroined-up on your approval, I would not have been able to fully engage in the following conversation . . .
Kallan leaps into the room like a superhero, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“No.”
She bounds about the room and throws herself onto the couch, “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
She rolls to the floor from the couch and stares up at me, “I don’t think you understand the depth of my need.”
“Answer’s still no, girl of the needy depths.”
Kallan disappears for a moment and then comes back holding the box of hot-chocolate envelopes like a game show hostess, “Look, Mom! It says it has vitamins and nutrients in it! It’s good for me!”
“It only has vitamins and nutrients in it if you add milk to it.”
She reads more closely, “Oh yeah.”
“You can have a glass of milk if you like.”
“But I want that milk to be desserty! Don’t you see?”
“Yes, I see. And no.”
Kallan holds the box up winningly, “It says right here it’s good for family time! We are a family and we have time! This is perfect for us!”
“No.”
“Daddy would say yes.”
“Daddy is not here.”
She pouts, “I talked to Daddy earlier and he said he has had dessert with every meal while he’s been gone. Pie and cookies and ice cream. It’s not fair I get no dessert.”
Snort!
Kallan continues, “Plus, Daddy said I could have hot chocolate.”
“He so did not.”
She stomps off into the kitchen, “Hey, can I have tea? That herbal stuff?”
“No.”
She reappears, “You make no sense, Mom. The tea has zero sugar in it. It is not even a treat. Why can’t I have tea?”
“Because I said so.”
Right about here is when my friend texted me to call me an ass, so I am distracted for a minute.
When I return to the conversation, I realize that Kallan is singing a little song in the kitchen . . .
The tea has no sugar
Noooo sugar
The tea has no sugar
And Mom is unreasonable
And repeat.
Snort!
I lean back on the couch so I can see into the kitchen, and I yell to Kallan, “Fine! Have a cup of tea.”
There is silence for a minute.
And then Kallan appears, “Can I add sugar to the tea? And creamer?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“But the tea by itself is not a desserty treat. I need sugar.”
“No.”
Kallan swings on the door-frame for a moment, all thoughtful, “So I can’t add sugar to my drink?”
“No.”
She swings some more, “I don’t need to add sugar to hot chocolate to make it desserty.”
“True.”
“So can I have hot chocolate?”
“No.”
Kallan’s face goes all pouty and fat with sadness.
Maj speaks from the other side of the room, “Kallan, you had treats today. You are not deprived. You asked Mother if you could have hot chocolate and she said no. Dessert is not required. You are being ridiculous. Move on with your day.”
Kallan and I both stare at Maj.
I say, “Yeah! What she said!”
Kallan looks at me, “You are not actually supposed to get momming tips from your eleven year old daughter. Also? I am pretty sure Maj is a robot, because children do not talk like she just talked.”
Snort!
I giggle, “OK, Kallan. Ask me again, and I will rely only on my own mothering skills.”
Kallan smiles, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“No.”
Her face falls, “WHY NOT?”
“Let’s see. Because I am feeling all cranky and icky and mean, and I am tired, and the internet is down, and I am feeling all failurey and out of control, and so in this moment? The one small bit of power I have is the ability to deny you hot chocolate, and I am holding on to this little joy and squeezing it for all it’s worth.”
Maj giggles but does not look up from her book.
Kallan stares at me, “When’s Daddy coming home?”
Snort!
Kallan reminds me of a sprite or a jester.
Maj, are you sure she is 11? Often she seems like an adult and I would like to squeeze some little girlness back into her.
Can I have hot chocolate?
Wield your power over me BABEE
FIRSTIES
GOLD STAR ME
that is all
Maj has her moments of childishness, but she often behaves and speaks like a smallish grown-up.
And she is often more grown-up sounding than I am.
We have all noticed this.
Ahem.
Because I said so.
The most best mom reason in the universe. It is my personal favorite. I have used it not only on my daughter, but employees, husband,sister and maybe even a customer that was being belligerent with me. And I’m sure I will at some point use it on grandkids. Though they will get away with more stuff because that is a gramma’s perogotive.
And the toilet tissue pad? Been there. Ack.
Because I said so . . .
Those words should just end the conversation, as far as I am concerned.
That almost never happens, but that’s what I dream.
Sigh.
As for the other?
Yes . . . ACK!
Guess what! I approve of you! Hooray approval!
Happy sighs.
Happy addicted sighs.
Just this morning, as I was looking up a book for a friend on Amazon, I asked her how on earth my mom (also a stay-at-home mom) managed to live without the lifeline that is the Internet. She thought a minute, then laughed.
“I dunno. But I’m thinking I might have been a better mom without it.”
Well, dammit. Way to make me feel all self-absorbed in my own electronic world, my friend.
I may or may not have made a run to Hobby Lobby to buy guilt-laced Makit Bakits to do with my daughter this afternoon.
OK, you said other things, but this . . .
. . . guilt-laced Makit Bakits to do with my daughter this afternoon.
Oh, that has made me giggle.
Because at first I thought you meant gilt-edged, all shiny and Makit-Bakity.
But then I realized you meant guilt-edged, the actual phrasing you used.
I love that!
Sweet Jesus…I learn something new here every day.
My new motto? ” You are being ridiculous. Move on with your day.”
I am so using that.
Thank you, Maj.
Maj is perhaps a better parent than I am.
Except for the part where she is not actually a parent.
And Kallan is not fond of having a back-up mother.
Snort!
I wouldn’t mind having a Maj robot at my house. She could explain to my daughter why one piece of carrot cake is all she is getting even though her daddy had three…oh wait, I seem to be projecting my own dessert problems onto your post.
As far as the toilet paper goes…we have all been there…and it sucks.
Tracie -
Exactly! Kallan seems to think that where dessert is concerned, she and Mark should be equals, because they both care so deeply about dessert.
She does not seem to fully grasp the fact that she is 9, and would turn into a beach ball if she ate desserts the size of her Daddy’s servings.
Life?
Is not fair, according to Kallan.
To which I say?
Duh.
Can I borrow Maj for a few hours? I realize she will disapprove mightily of me, but I can live with that since I’m pretty sure she could whip my kids into shape.
Pretty please, can Maj be my assistant mother for a day? You are hogging her all to yourself and it’s getting kind of greedy.
Adrienne -
I need Maj.
We drive one another crazy, but I need her.
Don’t tell her I said so.
She would be unbearable in her triumph.
so this one time, at band camp ahahahahahahahahahaaaa j/k it wasn’t at band camp it was in jr high I think and tp played its roll as pretend wanna be pad … way uncomfortable and freakily horrifying imaging during the bus ride home how awful it would be if it didn’t do the job of a pretend pad …
did you know that its almost a full moon (its 99% right now) and that makes pmsing even crazier … and if the wind changes direction at just the same time that the moon hits 100% ALL hell breaks loose and men and smallish children should hide in fear … just sayin
Getcha -
No one ever knows to hide from me.
They just all get right up in my face, because they sense weakness.
I’m the one who sometimes hides.
Naps are lovely and way avoidant.
Yay!
Oh, and before I forget, we should all make a square for an approval quilt you can wrap around yourself when you can’t get to us!
Hmm. Actually, that’s kind of a cool idea. Maybe I should make myself an approval quilt. It sounds handy when I’m having a “talentless hack” day. I’ve never quilted, but why would I let that stop me!
My name is steph, and I approve of you and this message.
Ok, will now quit being all stalkery in your comments!
Steph -
Quilted makes me think of the toilet paper I do not have.
Quilted would be lovely.
And so I imagine my approval quilt would be made out of toilet paper.
Yup.
Sigh.
“move on with your day.”
snort!
that is awesome!
also?
i am so glad that the addiction is mutual!
love to you…
Cathy -
Love you.
Love a good approval fix.
Swoon!
I like that your daughters’ favorite word to describe you seems to be “unreasonable”.
Mine was similar, but it was always “unfair”.
No decision my mother ever made seemed to be fair. Ever.
Yes, I get called unfair.
But more often I am “unreasonable.”
And I am way unreasonable, according to the recipients of my reason.
Snort!
You get “wonky” and yet you mock me for “wacky.”
You are weirdy.
And ah yes…the torpedo. I am intimately familiar with the technology.
Wonky is way cooler than wacky.
Way.
I like weirdy, though.
I can so work some weirdy.
And torpedo?
That is making me giggle.
Hee hee!
Kris,
Quickly get thee to the U.S. Patent Office.
“Johnson and & Johnson Approval Patch — better than heroin and legal in California.”
Now back to the Internets.
Bill
Right?
I am going to be a gazillionaire!
Plus loved and adored in junkie-fashion!
This is genius!
Ahem.
Maj is like a tiny mother trapped in an 11 year-old’s body.
She so is.
Kallan loves having an extra smallish mother.
Not.
you should have put kal to work making costco back up toilet paper pads…maybe a pack of 6 is worth a chocolatey drink, plus she will be learning much needed skills for her many adventures in life as a full grown snacky woman.
I am so going to tell Kallan that her aunt is way sassier than she thinks.
Yes, I am.