Scary Mommy has thrown down the gauntlet and asked for other scary mommy stories. As in “mirror mirror on the wall, who is the scariest mommy of them all?”
Okay – so I don’t think she’s an evil queen or anything (or is she…), but she claims to be the kind of mom who is “scary.” This refers to “the anti-perfect mommy. The mommy who despite adoring her children to death, will admit to wanting to wring their little necks. The mommy who forgets to shower until bedtime. The mommy who drives through Chic-Fil-A to get fruit for lunch rather than deal with schlepping the kids to the grocery store.”
My first thought is, “you can get them to eat fruit? I’m intimidated.“
It would be hard to come up with a comprehensive list of what makes me scary. You can just click on any one of several labels on my sidebar (Oliver, George, Eleanor, Little Ones, World’s Best Mom…) I’ve covered everything from refusing to buy my kids toys that would drive me crazy (for their own good), to bribing them with candy (for my own good), to refusing to let them help decorate the Christmas tree (because a perfect tree makes Christmas even more special for children), to comparing my daughter to Mr. T (because I can), to letting them run around town looking like the cast of Oliver (they’re own fault for outgrowing perfectly good clothes)… I even wrote a list of reasons why I’m a scary mommy (although I called myself “that mom”). Twice. So as far as scary mommy status goes, I think I’ve really covered my bases here at The Big Piece of Cake.
But Scary Mommy isn’t asking for links. She’s asking for something new. And I do happen to have a rather cringe-worthy story that hasn’t been told as of yet…
A year ago, we visited my Aunt and Uncle in New Jersey. They live on a block of lovely little houses that happens to be positioned behind a large public high school. And directly across the street from their front door is a driveway that leads to all of the playing fields and tennis courts. A perfect venue for entertaining your three year old while your two year old twins take an afternoon nap.
So on that Indian Summer Saturday afternoon I walked hand in hand with Oliver down the driveway and into a wonderland of bleachers and dusty pitcher’s mounds. While it was already quite a distance for Oliver’s little legs, he heard the siren call of tennis balls hitting clay. So we went even further into the school grounds to watch the tennis lessons and recreational matches going on.
At this point, any games that may have taken place had ended so aside from the tennis courts, the fields were fairly deserted. We (he) could run up and down pathways between the chain link and exclaim over the very exciting ball smacking going on everywhere we looked.
After an hour of tennis, we took an abandoned ball over to the bleachers and played a complicated game of catch that involved jumping down, climbing up and throwing the ball far out of the catcher’s range just to watch them (me) run.
Needless to say, after an hour and change, we were exhausted. It was time to go.
About halfway across the playing fields, Oliver’s stubby little legs gave out and I was given the option of sitting down on the ground with him or picking him up and carrying him. Since I was used to hauling that big boy around on a regular basis (mainly to make him submit to my will – but same-same), I scooped him up with ease and made my way back down the driveway that led to my Aunt and Uncle’s house.
What I didn’t expect was to find an almost 6′ tall chain link fence blocking our path. Apparently, the gate is locked for the day once school activities conclude, and that time must have passed while we were climbing bleachers. I was feeling rather nonplussed since I didn’t even realize that there was a gate. But there it was…
And there we were… Tired, hungry and wet. Although Oliver had been potty trained for a while, I realized that I must not have taken him to the bathroom before leaving the house (a rookie mistake that I still make on a regular basis). So of course, he had an accident. Which was at that moment soaking through my shirt.
The only other way to exit the school grounds was on the other side of the tennis courts. Which would require about a mile walk around the huge block back to our destination. Holding an exhausted 50 lb. three year old. With pee pee soaking through my shirt…
I looked at Oliver. Then I looked at the chain link. Then I looked behind us at the tennis courts. Then I looked again at the chain link. Then I finally looked at Oliver, let out a long resigned breath and said, “yeah – we’re going to have to go over.“
And how does one go about hoisting a small child over a chain link fence? In my case, not very well…
First I explained the process to him, “okay Oliver – here’s how it’s going to go down. I’ll hold you up as high as I can over my head, and then you are going to throw your legs over the top of the fence. Then I’m going to dangle you over the other side, and count to three. When I get to three, I’ll let go, and you will jump to the ground. Sound good?“
After receiving a blank stare for confirmation, the plan was set. It was go time.
As it turns out, lifting 50 lbs of dead weight over your head is not as easy as it sounds. And Oliver was no help at all. Seriously, no initiative whatsoever – you’d think he was a child or something… But somehow, I managed it. And in less than a minute with only minimal scratches from the jagged fence top, he was dangling just a few feet over freedom.
I’ll admit that he didn’t quite stay on his feet when I dropped him, but he scrambled back up quickly enough (mommy’s little trooper) and received me with open arms – the better to climb me with – as soon as I joined him on the other side.
The rest of our walk home involved a very short trek through some underbrush due to ANOTHER chain link fence. Honestly – what are they keeping in that high school? The Hope Diamond? But this one seemed to just block cars from the driveway and much to our relief, we could make our way around it.
As soon as we arrived back, we changed into clean clothes and told our story to a spellbound crowd of admirers (or to a few horror struck relatives…potato-potahto…) But alls well that ends well, I say.
I did consider fudging the truth, but we scary mommies wear our poor parenting moments like badges of honor. Even if they just serve as a reminder of where improvement can be made, “right – never doing that again.”
And no – I have never lost my mind and tried to toss a child over a chain link fence since. But not to worry – I fall short daily, serving peanut butter sandwiches for dinner because that’s all they’ll eat…pretending that I’m not aware of them disobeying orders in the other room since it’s just easier that way…letting them skip teeth brushing because it will just provide another 15 minutes of evasion opportunity to an already late bedtime… A scary mommy’s work is never done. And I never leave my post.
Motherhood opened today, a movie about a mom/writer/blogger. Also, the director is a woman and a mom, too. We should really try to support this movie and show the studio heads that there is money to be had by making movies for US. I’m going to make an effort to get out there and see it – which is pretty huge considering that I have seen the inside of a movie theater about three times in the past four years.
And yes – I do owe you an update on the conference call with Uma Thurman…but I’ll try to do that next week (as usually, I’ve stayed a bit long at the party and this post is a beast). But here’s a spoiler: I could barely hear her, she got cut off several times, and I spent most of it running away from my whining children (thank god for the mute button). So yeah – it will be REALLY exciting.
Dropping your kid over a chain link fence doesn't seem too bad. I could totally see myself doing that.
I'll share a story with you now. Last week I had to run to the mall to pick up some pictures I had taken at Sears. I completely forgot that Porgie was wearing underwear. When I took her out of her carseat, she was soaking wet. Of course I didn't have a change of clothes. So instead of letting her walk around the mall with an obviously wet ass, I made her sit in the stroller. She screamed and thrashed around for the entire trip, sitting in her own urine.
In my defense, this mall is thirty minutes away from our house and I didn't feel like making that trip twice in one day. It never hurt anyone to sit in urine for an hour – right?
Your paragraph recapping previous scary mommy moments alone had me in stitches :) But the rest of the story… tears coming down my face! We've all been there, it's so good to hear that someone else has gone through the treacherous paths that motherhood leads us down at times.
I just loved this post. You know what I love the most about your writing? How I feel I can hear you talking to me. Seriously, I feel like we're just out for coffee, and you're just telling me this story. You are an excellent writer! You're awesome. This scary mommy story is awesome. I could totally picture you! Lord knows I'd have done the same crazy thing too…
P.S. ARE children suppose to brush their teeth every single day? Oopsie… ;)
I'm impressed that you were strong enough to lift that beast over your head. My 6 year old isn't 50 pounds yet. I think you deserve a medal, Kate, not disapproval.
Hilarious!
I've dumped a lump of poop out of a diaper and put the same diaper back on baby because I've forgotten to bring along fresh ones while we're out…
This is anonymous, right?
Hey you had to do what you had to do right?
That is so funny Kate – I can imagine the whole thing! And I'll try to get out to see that movie too!
That was so funny. I love the part about getting a blank stare as confirmation. You want me to do what?
I've said it before but you are a very brave woman, you do deserve a medal.
Love this scary mom moment! i bet oliver loved this little adventure w/ you. i remember locking myself out of the house w/ my daughter (3 yrs old) so we couldn't get access to the car keys. We missed her first Build a Bear bday party in the process. As we sat in the sweltering heat on the front stoop for several hours she comforted me. No blame whatsoever. It felt like a little adventure.My how things have changed in the last 5 yrs.
Ha! I love this!! And I hate that we are so close to each other, but just far enough to make it tough to meet. Someday soon, I hope!!
This is a good one, Kate. I have many scary mommy stories. For instance, is it wrong to cajole your child into going for a walk with you down to the local liquor store? Oh, and he's not really walking. He'll get into the wagon which sounds like it's all about his having fun but, really, it's about you wanting to haul a couple of bottles of wine back because it's too heavy to pack. Classy, hey? Me pulling a wagon of wine and Ben. This happened only a couple of hours ago. Your story was timely.
I love your writing, Kate.
HAHHAAAHAHAHAAA!!!! Oh goodness! This post had me rolling!! I would totally have sat on my butt right there at the foot of the fence and cried. Cause there is no way this Big Mama is getting HER Big Mama butt over a 6 foot fence! LOL
I can't believe this story! Thank heavens you both survived! Do you think Oliver will remember the day Mommy threw him over the fence? Or maybe someday years from now you'll be suffering great angst (like I do) over moments like this and Oliver will be telling you it's okay, don't worry about it (just like you and Matt reassure me that my "bad Mommy" behavior at certain times didn't scar your psyche for life. Maybe he'll remember it as a great adventure a la a 24 episode. At least life is never dull.
That is an awesome scary Mommy story. And I am so proud of you – and Oliver – for making it!
We recently had a pee-soaking incident with the Pixie. Suffice to say it was a proud moment for this neglectful Mom!
I am beyond impressed that you got him over the fence. Forget scary. You are a super hero. I probably would have called someone to help me and sat on the ground in my pee soaked shirt and waited.
Haha, great story! I can't believe you were able to hoist him over like that. Nice work!
Check out my moment on my last post. Oh, the joys of motherhood.
And for the record, I'm totally with you on Halloween!