Just wanted to put a face on the reason I have not been posting regularly this last week. Here’s JULIA dressed for her Talent Show performance. She and her friend ALY are doing the song “SISTERS” by Irving Berlin.

Now who can say NO to that face? Not this MAMMAKAZE.  I love her so much and am so proud of her. And while I may often sometimes complain and moan, really, this is what it’s all about. Not the shows. The kid.

 

Be warned. I’m in a complaining  mode. Specifically about how much of my life is consumed by my child and her activities. Oh don’t act like you’ve never been there. If you don’t occasionally feel totally overwhelmed, irritated and maybe a teeny bit  resentful by how much of yourself you have given up for the sake of your children then you are either a pod person or heavily medicated.

I mean HOW FAR SHOULD OUR MOMBLIGATIONS GO?  When I was a kid, parents didn’t play with us and schlep us around to every activity under the sun. In fact, the extent of their involvement with us (other than feeding and clothing us) was to shout – whilst fixing dinner or gluing together the broken coffee table, “Go outside and play and don’t come home until the streetlights come on!”

Nowadays, my kid has such a social schedule you’d think she was the President of the United States of Children.

Especially this week when all of her activities have come together in a sort of PERFECT STORM.

MONDAY – school/ piano

TUESDAY – End of year conference/ school/dance class/ rehearsal for Talent Show

WEDNESDAY – 2 Talent Show performances for the school in the a.m./ Dance competition rehearsal after school

THURSDAY – School Awards Assembly (she’s getting an award…shhhh!)/ Orthodontist appt./ Talent Show Rehearsal/ Evening Talent Show performance for parents

FRIDAY – Dance competition at a location SO FAR AWAY that will take hours in rush hour traffic on Memorial weekend to get to…ARRRGH!

 

Crazy, huh? And yet, I’m not the only one. All the parents I know have gone hog-wild crazy catering to their kids and their kids’ activities. And most other parents have more than one child so you can multiply their madness accordingly!  

So, where is MY time, you ask? The pathetic bits and pieces of the day eked out to attend to MY work, MY chores, MY personal hygiene? And why is a girl who says she wants to be a doctor when she grows up so focused on the arts anyway? Good questions. If you have the answers, lemme know.

Meanwhile…. before any of you state the obvious, let me just say it myself.

IT’S ALL MY FAULT!  My kid only has this mad schedule because I have allowed it. Yet, as a parent I have the right, the obligation to JUST SAY NO!

And you know what? I plan on doing just that. From here on out, I’m putting my foot down.

Yessiree. Next time she tells me she’d like to take an art class, or join the school chess club I’ll stare her straight in her big,  chocolatey brown eyes that look at me with such unconditional love and I’LL TELL HER…

“You listen here, missy. ABSOLUTELY NOT…. until I have some time to think about it.”

I know. I know. I’m a total pushover. So sue me. I don’t know  why I do it. Love or guilt or the desire to give my kid what I didn’t have in my childhood. Or just because I’m her mom and think she’s the most talented little thing on the planet and generally, it’s all fun, even for me. Probably it’s a little of everything.  Still, the bottom line is that I bring it on myself. And therefore, I shouldn’t complain.

Buuuuuuut…. since this is my  website and I pretty much do whatever I want on it…. WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

WHAT DO YOU THINK? DO WE OVERINDULGE OUR KIDS?

 
As a mom, I feel guilty about lots of things. I feel guilty about my lack of patience, about the time I don’t spend with my kid because I’m working, about the fact that I haven’t told her that the dancing light on the headliner of the car is coming from my ring and is NOT a special communication to her from her fairy friend Bettina.

Know what I DON’T feel guilty about? That I haven’t taught my daughter to take apart and reassemble an assault rifle in record time.

I watch the following video and think, if her dad really wanted her to do something in record time, couldn’t he have taught her how to frame a house for Habitat for Humanity or something?

I’m not sure what purpose this talent will serve. You know, unless her name is Sarah Connor and Cyberdyne Systems has finally gotten its hands on that revolutionary new microprocessor that will form the basis for Skynet.

SIGH.

 

Posting will be sporadic for the next few days as I work on the creation of my GREETING CARD SHOP.   

Yep, all that snarky sarcasm you enjoy for free will be available for purchase (at a reasonable price) for you to share with your friends. We’ll have cards on topics like:

 FERTILITY, BREASTFEEDING, FRIENDSHIP, MOMMY GUILT, BAD MARRIAGES/RELATIONSHIPS,

WEIGHT LOSS, BODY IMAGE, etc.

So if you’re looking for Hallmark style cards with cute puppies on the front and sweetsie little  poems inside  this will NOT be the place to come. However, if you’re looking for something with a little edge, a little humor and a lot of sarcasm, Mammakaze will provide. Also in the offing – T-shirts and caps!

Meanwhile, may we suggest you re-read some of our favorite posts. They can be found on the left side under FEATURED POSTS.  Or take the time to browse through CATEGORIES and see what we’ve offered up in the past.  Snark at you soon!

 

Check out this kid whose talent show performance is a web sensation.

Wowsa. Can anyone say INNATE TALENT?  Only three years of piano lessons and no singing lessons.

GREYSON MICHAEL CHANCE performs Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi”

 

We mommies have an unspoken language that only we can understand. It’s wordless… based on subtle expressions of the face, mostly the eyes, and a little bit of psychic understanding thrown in. It’s a way of communicating that I’m sure dates back to prehistoric times. Probably a survival mechanism where females could secretly complain to one another about their foul smelling mates with bad teeth without their mates knowing and the females consequently suffering the repercussions, or concussions, whatever the form of cave husband disapproval was back then.

In fact, I had just such a wordless conversation with another mommy on Mother’s Day. I didn’t even know her. But, I KNEW exactly what she was thinking.

Here’s what happened.

So, Randy the perfekt husband took me and Julia to the La Quinta Resort and Spa in Palm Springs for Mother’s Day weekend.  After a lovely, relaxing day Saturday, we awoke Sunday morning and headed to Twenty6, one of the resort’s restaurants, for Mother’s Day breakfast.

The three of us were seated at a small table near a larger party of two families. Between them they had 7 kids and, from the looks of one mommy’s profile, another on the way. 

Well, I happened to look over (okay I was staring cuz I couldn’t imagine how those women did it with so many kids) when the mommies  began opening their Mother’s Day presents. One MOM was right in my sight line. Her Husband handed her a little gift bag from which  she removed a very promising-looking, smallish box.  I could see the anticipation on her face. I KNOW she was thinking, “I wonder if it’s a diamond?”  as she smiled a BIG SMILE. I didn’t even have to be psychic to figure out that part.  

Then she opened the box. And I knew instantly –  SHE HATED IT! Not because her smile faded or anything. Oh, no. Like any mommy experienced at sometimes (or maybe always) getting the absolute wrong gift, she held that smile like the Miss America title was riding on it.   There was even “ooohing” and “aaahing”  coming out of her mouth. No, in fact, to the untrained eye, all the outward signs pointed to her loving it.

But this mommy knew better. Whereas her smile was initially very natural and relaxed, suddenly it took on a slightly forced look. Just around the edges. Subtle but there. Only obvious to those lacking a Y chromosome. And the anticipatory glimmer in her eye went out like a burned-out bulb. Shark eyes are the only way I can describe them. Dead. Dead to all hope of a good Mother’s Day gift from the one human being on Earth who was  supposed to know her better than anyone – her husband.

Our eyes met for a moment, this mommy and I.  I knew. And she knew I knew. Yet without missing a beat, she looked back at her hubby and kids and proclaimed SHE LOVED IT!

Then she held “it” up so I could finally see the object of her disdain. It was THE BIGGEST, GAUDIEST RING EVER!  I mean, this thing was honkin’ huge. It had the subtlety of a mack truck, this ring did. Which would have been tolerable if it was indeed a diamond because hey… big is good when it comes to diamonds. Yes?  But  it wasn’t a diamond. No sirree.

It was one of those giant rectangular black onyx things with lots of little rhinestones all around it. So big it covered the two neighboring fingers. The only appropriate use for such a huge, flashy, non-diamond ring would be to have Christopher Columbus kiss it before he set sail on his adventure to decimate the New World with the pox.  

I whispered to Randy, “She doesn’t like it.” And Randy who up to that point had been completely oblivious to anything but the stack o’ butter- soaked pancakes before him – the kind that men always seem to get away with eating without gaining weight, replied, “Huh? Who?”

ME: That mommy over there, at the other table. She DOES NOT like the ring she got for Mother’s Day.

Randy glanced over.

RANDY: But she’s wearing it.

ME: It means nothing.

RANDY: Well, she keeps saying she loves it! THAT means something.

TONI: It means she’s polite. Now watch, she’s going to set up for the return… Wait for it. Wait for it.

Just then, between her gushing and her “I love its”, the Mommy suddenly said:

MOMMY: Wow. It’s kind of too big on me. I don’t know if they’ll be able to resize this. I’ll have to take it back to the shop and see.

And there is was. Randy looked at me in amazement.

RANDY: How did you know?

As the Mommy got up from the table NOT WEARING her ring, our eyes met again. Her eyes told me I was right, that sucker was going back, no matter what the shop said about resizing – if she even bothered to ask, which she probably wouldn’t.  I already knew it. And she knew I knew it.

ME: (to Randy) We mommies just know.

 

Randy started in on his bacon and I watched as the Mommy and her group headed out the door. And she shot me a final parting glance that told me she hoped I had better luck with my Mother’s Day gift.

Oh. I had. Know why? Because unlike some husbands (hers), mine had learned the key to good gift-giving a LONG time ago.  Take me to pick it out. Yes he did. And yes I had. And I was happily wearing my necklace, bracelet and earrings as I nibbled away at my health conscious yogurt and berry medley breakfast that we women have to suffer through instead of butter-soaked pancakes so as NOT to gain weight.

No bad gifts for this good mommy.