123Valerie Strikes Again

Unprecedented Self-Indulgence.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Kidding Around

I wish I could be a selfless person but the fact is that I am not. I am totally wrapped up in my own head and that even means when it comes to the Sept. 11 tragedy. The anniversary of this day always spurs me to think about the BIG LIFE THINGS I still want to do and my hopes that I get the chance.

Recently, I thwarted the idea that my biological clock had started a-tickin'. Well, let me tell you, kids, I believe I was in denial. Or lying. Or both.

(Side note: I think I just came up with a new phrase for biological yearning: wovaries. Woe+ovaries. Geddit?)

In any case, I've been thinking of love and marriage and kids and front-loading washing machines a lot lately. Not, like, crazy, "I gots to pop out some babies pronto." But, for the first time in my life, I'm starting to notice (and believe) that I would make a very good mother.

Wipe that smirk off your face, buster.

(See there? I'm a natural. Now get your hands out of your pants. That's not polite.)

No, really. I mean, I can apply Band-Aids, don't mind puke, know a zillion different ways to sneak vegetables into meals and have 300 different uses for pipe cleaners (and 298 of them are kid friendly).

I also have infinite reserves of patience, which, sadly, up to this point has been largely wasted on unworthy boyish men who have no desire to understand the advantages of moving outside of their parent's house.

I reneged on this statute for a while but I am proclaiming, once and for all (again), if you live at home and are NOT taking care of an ill parent or performing otherwise necessary duties, I cannot date you. More importantly, I cannot have sex with you when your mother is down the hall. It. Just. Doesn't. Work. For. Me. (If you know what I mean.)

I think part of a parent's job is kicking your kids the hell out when it's time. In fact, I was considering kicking out a particular little kid the other day.

My nephew, Sam, was busy with one spindly finger up his nose, when he cavalierly asked, "Aunt Beans, why don't you ever get out of your PJs or look pretty?"

Do you know how humiliating it is to have a five-year-old criticize your dressing and hygiene habits as he's standing there fishing for boogers in full Batman costume (complete with wings and a mask) while sporting a chocolate pudding mustache?

No, you probably do not. But that's probably because, unlike me, you don't work from home, a place where showering and changing clothes makes about as much sense as dating the past couple of guys I've rendezvoused with, which is to say none at all.

Who do I have to impress? The mail carrier?

Besides, we do a fair amount of swimming, which is just as good bathing in my book.

See?!? I would make a great mom.

In the Comments section, tell me why you would be/are a great parent.

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  • At 9:09 PM , Blogger CamiKaos said...

    K lost her first baby tooth on Tuesday and I didn't puke OR faint...

    that is good parenting. ;)

  • At 9:31 PM , Blogger Del-V said...

    I would be a really, really bad parent. Not the kind you see on Cops... I'd be more like Homer Simpson. That's no way to bring up a kid.

  • At 10:02 PM , Blogger pistols at dawn said...

    If my nephew ever asked me that question in exactly that context, I would say, "You know how Batman hides his identity behind a mask? I'm like a superhero hiding behind a mask of laziness and sloth."

    If you want kids, try stealing unattended ones in the grocery store or from a public park. They're everywhere.

  • At 3:10 AM , Blogger thom said...

    strange times when the people we've grown up with or became good friends with are having children and getting married. i simply cannot wrap my head around it, even grow accustomed to the fact that i will never see these people as one i can hang out with again on a casual level. this is because married life has them in a complete stranglehold from which they can never escape.

    ah. anyway, i digress. i miss when i would get you to sing the pixies at where we used to work. when i think of you, i cannot shake the memory of where you took seven baths at melissa's house and we all slept together in the bed dubbed 'air force one.' .. but that was a long time ago. i never felt that i really got to know you, which is unfortunate. you seemed like one of those select few that would have made a damn.

    oh well. i'm here if you want to talk to a young twentysomething about whatever it is you're into. yeah... the bar makes me far more verbose than i would like to be.

    write me sometime.


  • At 4:01 PM , Blogger Effortlessly Average said...

    If I could be so vain as to think I am -or could be- a breat parent when so many do what I do, I'd have to say it all comes down to one thing:

    trying your level best to turn your children into better people than you yourself are.

  • At 10:22 PM , Blogger WendyB said...

    I'm a great step-parent and let's keep it at that.

  • At 1:55 PM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

    You can adopt me; you're way better than my mom.

  • At 6:18 PM , Anonymous Brinki said...

    You'd be a kick-ass motherina, Valerina. I think my best attribute as a mother would be my love of staying in my pjs all day. :)

  • At 2:39 PM , Blogger Johnny DC said...

    I've recently wondered, if I was a bored housewife, would I get it on with a hot mailman.. ?

    I think the answer is yes.


  • At 3:43 PM , Anonymous Franki said...

    oh val, you're here! i bowed to my woveries in my very earliest 20s, but mine were raging psychoes. I'm glad I did though. I think you'd be a great, funny, quirky mommy.

    I like the way you drew the line on boys who still live at home. ;)

  • At 4:06 PM , Blogger Spellbound said...

    Well, despite all my issues, or maybe because of them, I am a great parent. You don't have to take my word for it, my kids tell me all the time. I will say however it was the hardest thing I've ever done and that's not just because the smell of puke makes me throw up too. It's got something to do with getting on an airplane on 9/11 of this year, tempting fate, and visiting my first grandchild, 3000 miles away. It's not the rearing, it's the letting go that's so difficult.

  • At 6:11 PM , Blogger Effortlessly Average said...

    I'm not. I suck at everything: parenthood, husbandry, friendship, employee-uh-ism... all of it.


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