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Contrary to the beliefs of certain parties, I am not slavishly devoted to my children. I like them well enough, and I am inordinately proud of them. They take years off my life, but then they give years back, so I consider this a wash. And while I kvetch about making costumes and dealing with disorganization and the like--well, I actually like making costumes (tho, not, perhaps, with two day's notice) and I was a profoundly disorganized kid who got better. Do I get more involved in my kids' drama than I'd like? And let's not mention school or the Girl Scouts, my participation in which is not so much dictated by Avocado (who is at the age where my showing up to help out is profoundly embarrassing) as by my firm belief that everyone has to show up, a little bit at least, to make them work the way they are supposed to do.
However, it was brought to me forcibly the other day that I am the Worst Mother In The World. On Monday evening Avocado arranged for a sleepover at a friend's house (they had Veteran's Day off on Tuesday). In talking to the parent of the other child, I said "She needs to be home by about 9 tomorrow, because she has a classmate coming over to work on a school project."
Pause at the other end of the phone. "I'm not sure I can get her home at 9--I'm so disorganized. Will 9:30 be okay?"
I say sure. Then tip my Worst Mother in the World hand: "You don't have to bring her home. She can take the bus."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't make her do that."
I would, I think. "She does it every day, it's really no problem for her."
Uncomfortable pause at the other end of the phone. "But it's not a school day. There won't be any kids on the bus."
No, only child molesters and unbathed psychotics. "She takes the bus all over town." I don't mention that last year the kid was rocketing all over the Tenderloin when she had friends there, unfazed and with her NYC hazard detectors running full bore. "I think it's really important for her to move around on her own, get a sense of independence."
"Well." Other kid's mom is at a loss for words. "Well, yes, I guess. But it's not a school day. I'll have her there by 9:30."
I said thank you and hung up, realizing that Avocado's friend is probably driven everywhere, and will be until she goes to college. And that I am really quite comfortable with being the Worst Mother In the World.
However, it was brought to me forcibly the other day that I am the Worst Mother In The World. On Monday evening Avocado arranged for a sleepover at a friend's house (they had Veteran's Day off on Tuesday). In talking to the parent of the other child, I said "She needs to be home by about 9 tomorrow, because she has a classmate coming over to work on a school project."
Pause at the other end of the phone. "I'm not sure I can get her home at 9--I'm so disorganized. Will 9:30 be okay?"
I say sure. Then tip my Worst Mother in the World hand: "You don't have to bring her home. She can take the bus."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't make her do that."
I would, I think. "She does it every day, it's really no problem for her."
Uncomfortable pause at the other end of the phone. "But it's not a school day. There won't be any kids on the bus."
No, only child molesters and unbathed psychotics. "She takes the bus all over town." I don't mention that last year the kid was rocketing all over the Tenderloin when she had friends there, unfazed and with her NYC hazard detectors running full bore. "I think it's really important for her to move around on her own, get a sense of independence."
"Well." Other kid's mom is at a loss for words. "Well, yes, I guess. But it's not a school day. I'll have her there by 9:30."
I said thank you and hung up, realizing that Avocado's friend is probably driven everywhere, and will be until she goes to college. And that I am really quite comfortable with being the Worst Mother In the World.