the 101's: card + blanket

At this very second, my pants waist feels like they're garroting me in half, my head feels like a big cinder block, and all I can think of are the embarassing things my children have done this week.

Today, the Imp told his wonderful and sweet speech therapist, who does nothing but fawn all over him, that she was yucky, that she was the problem here, and that she needed to pick up his toys now.  I was humiliated.  Of course, I should have seen it coming when we were driving in the car and he started talking about his father, using his father's first name.  Using the pseudonym Oberon, it went something like this.

"Mommy, ah we going to go thee Oberon?  Ah we going to the hothpital where Oberon workth?"  

"You mean Daddy?"  

"I don't want to call him Daddy.  I want to call him Oberon."  

"He's your daddy so you need to call him daddy or dad if you want."  

"No, I don't think tho.  I'm going to call him Oberon."  

"Fine.  I'll just start calling you..."(I choked and picked the nastiest non-nasty name I could think of) "...Butthead or StinkyFace then."  

He erupted into laughter at this point.

Of course, I texted his father about the disturbing behavior with the speech therapist.  When his dad got home, his first question to the Imp was, "Did you behave for Mommy today?"  "Yeth," he answered.  Daddy went, "Did you?"  The Imp instantly turned to me and asked, "Did you tell him thomething, Mommy?  What you tell him?"

We tried to talk to him about how sad he made his wonderful teacher feel and he insisted that no, he didn't make her sad or hurt her feelings because "her didn't have any tearth in her eyeth."  Is it possible I'm raising a child without any semblance of a conscience?

My favorite story, and one that reflects slightly less poorly on me as a parent, is when we were at the science museum on Saturday.  The carpet is old and smells disgusting, particularly by the mirror maze where hundreds of children over the years have probably peed and vomited unnoticed.  At one point, the Pixie yells (because she has no volume control and the only volume is "maximum" on her), "Eeeewwww!  It smells like armpit in here!"  I'm telling you that the word "armpit" was twice as loud as the rest and that everybody heard and started snickering.  I was mortified; her dad laughed.

I have never claimed to be a wonderful mother but maybe my children are putting out a message that I need to spend less time being busy with cantata rehearsals and teacher appreciation luncheons and make more time for them.  Or maybe they're telling me that the sum total of their genetic inheritance is essentially inadequate and won't be getting them very far in life on its own.  Let's hope that's not it.

Anyway, as I have mentioned, there was a teacher luncheon I volunteered to coordinate.  It was beautiful and unfortunately I didn't have time to take any photos of it.  For invitations, I wanted something simple, homemade, but thoughtful enough to express the sentiment of appreciation.  The end result was easy so I thought I'd share.

simple homemade vintage card tutorial

And of course, I promised the pattern for the 8-hour baby blanket!

Encore 8-hour baby blanket

I hope one of these projects looks fun to you.  In light of my epic parental fail, I'm headed to bed so I can be a better mom tomorrow.

Comments

[Cari]

I sympathize. I've been chastised 3 times by my son's pre-K teacher for him yelling "Poopy!" in his foghorn voice at full volume during the serious part of class simply for the comic effect. It's a good thing kids are cute, right?

[Rachel]

Weren't you supposed to be posting something else about the teacher luncheon?? I'm still waiting.....

[Ingrid]

:)

[Melva Gonzalez]

I think children always do the unexpected...and good parents recognize it as "UNEXPECTED' and work on it, instead of thinking "Oh my child is so funny". Anyways, I think you are a good mommy and the Imp is a good kid. Talking about pleasant things, I love, love, love the knitted blanket...I will make it for myself! Thank you for sharing the pattern

[Ingrid]

ugh!