Tag Archives: humor

Mother’s Day in the 1970s and 1980s

Posted on May 1, 2012 | 49 Comments

Every mother dreams about drinking with her daughter*... (Happy Mother's Day, Mom!)

If you live in North American, you’re likely aware it’s Mother’s Day in 12 days, unless you’re dead. For the part of my adult life that I’ve been alive, I’ve celebrated Mother’s Day by calling my mom to apologize for getting her nothing. This is not unlike how I celebrate her birthday by not sending her dead people’s cards.

Last night, I finally filed my income tax return (Canadians file on April 30th. Correction: Stupid Canadians file on April 30th; smart Canadians file before that date). After I used both a Sharpie and a compass to scratch that chore off my to-do list, I started thinking about random stuff, like nose hair, whether or not The Onion would’ve been funny if they called it The Rutabaga, and what crafts I did for Mother’s Day back in the 70s and 80s.

I tweeted this.

Some people weighed in on their Mother’s Day crafts from yesteryear.

More recently, Vivian and William drew portraits of me and wrote poems in Kindergarten. I’ve also received popsicle stick picture frames, cards, and a bunch of other items that had a longterm layaway plan in the landfill.

Now it’s your turn:
Did you honour your mom with homemade gifts as a kid?
Do you still get your mom a present?
Did you get me a present yet?**

* I think someone should write a song inspired by my face in this shot. We’ll call it, “Shine Forehead Shine.”

**This last question is addressed to my husband, who only ever comments on one blog…that of funny man, Knox McCoy. Yup, not on his wife’s blog, but Knox’s. I admit that Knox is hilarious. And my husband uses a pseudonym to comment there (Benchclearing). Yes, I’m outing you, Mr. DH. Lululemon please.

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Posted in Slice of (My Psycho) Life

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The Wisdom of 7 Year Olds

Posted on April 25, 2012 | 50 Comments

Vivian sat at the table, practicing line after line of cursive writing because apparently she will learn handwriting in Grade 3, otherwise known as “next year.”

Out of nowhere, she said, “Some parents just want their kids to be like them.”

I paused whatever I was doing in the kitchen, which probably involved burning myself. “That’s interesting,” I said. “Where did you hear that?”

“I didn’t really hear it anywhere.”

“Is it just something you thought?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

A shadow of guilt flashed over me. “Do you feel that’s how I am as a parent?”

Vivian at age 4, a few years before those fingers knew cursive

“No,” Vivian said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Cross that off the four-page cheat sheet I’m preparing for her future therapist.

“But I want to be a teacher anyway,” she continued, “even though you are one.”

I thought of the ten hours of grading I have ahead of me this week. “Teaching’s a good job,” I said.

I wasn’t lying.

“But I don’t want to have kids,” Vivian said. “Children are a lot of work.”

She wasn’t lying.

Viv kept talking. “But teaching is a lot like having kids, only you have 22 of them.”

I nodded and smiled at this wise young soul, the same girl who – at age 4 – called the stretch marks on my stomach “silver rainbows.”

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Posted in Slice of (My Psycho) Life

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Humour Column: Trying Not To Glue Gun Kids Together

Posted on April 20, 2012 | 35 Comments

When I was on my Spring Break, I volunteered two mornings in both Vivian and William’s Grade 2 classroom. I had to do a craft. I happen to despise crafts. I can mess them up easily.

Those two mornings in a primary classroom were the subject of my latest humor column in The Calgary Herald.

Here’s the opening to Mom Has a Glue Gun and No Idea How To Use It:

There are two types of mothers in this world: those who are good at crafts . . . and me.

It’s not exactly a secret that I have the finger dexterity of Fozzie the Bear, minus the aid of strings that move my arms.

So when Vivian came home from school and told me what I’d be doing in William’s Grade 2 classroom when I volunteered, both she and I knew it was trouble.

“Mom?” she said. “I talked to William’s teacher.”

William heard his name, looked up from his latest Lego creation and proceeded to ignore his sister.

“When you volunteer,” Viv said, “you’re going to be doing crafts with the class.”

“What?” I said.

“Crafts.” Vivian paused, looking even more worried than me. She knew my phobia of the cut-and-paste realm. She knew I’d rather hold a boa constrictor than cut my way to cuteness. “You’re still going to come, right? Mom? Are you?”

To read the rest of it, please click on Mom Has a Glue Gun and No Idea How To Use It.

~~~

What parenting or household task do you dislike? 

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Posted in On the Move

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