Tag

role model

A Mother’s Resume

Resume

Yesterday I did a post about the irrational fears of mothers. A reader commented that these irrational thoughts are part of our job description. This made me chuckle. My response was that our job description is far too long, that sometimes I forget what is on it. It got me thinking. Being a parent is a difficult job. It is demanding, keeps long hours & you never get a day off. Our list of responsibilities is a lengthy one.

A Mother’s Resume

12/18/2014
The Pinterested Parent
https://www.facebook.com/thepinterestedparent
Thepinterestedparent.com

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OBJECTIVE:

To successfully raise our child to be a sweet, smart, well-mannered young lady with family values, respect for others and a strong sense of self, without screwing it all up.

EXPERIENCE:

Mother to Mai (January 2012-present)

Child Care Manager 

  • Nursing with no regard to sore breasts, bleeding nipples or mastitis
  • Changed thousands of soiled diapers & cleaned poop out of clothing, hair and sheets on several occasions.
  • Endured sleepless nights comforting a crying baby, a cranky toddler, a sick kid & a scared child
  • Over-protector and dirty look wielder to playground bullies
  • Kissed and bandaged many boo boos & ouchies
  • Wiper of runny noses, poopy bottoms, dirty hands & tears
  • Personal chef to the most finicky of eaters
  • Washed, bathed, shampooed & brushed the teeth of a squirming child daily
  • Hairdresser & stylist specializing in pig tales & Elsa braids
  • Responsible for transport by either horsey ride, piggy back, carrying, stroller or car
  • Diffusing tantrums & meltdowns

Education Director

  • Teacher of colors, objects, animals, math, reading, sign language, problem solving and geography
  • Acting as a role model trying to accomplish all of the things in the above objective without passing on all of my own bad habits and short comings
  • Professor of arts & crafts with a deep focus on paper plate art, painting, Play-Doh sculptures & macaroni art
  • Assists in the progression of crawling, walking, talking, potty training & riding a bike
  • Responsible for discussions on God, love, sex, death and other various subjects pertaining to life

Purveyor of memories

  • Amateur photojournalist chronicling the life of my little girl from birth to present day
  • Collector of art projects & drawings
  • Archiver of cute, funny & beautiful moments that I will hold securely in my heart & head

Head of Entertainment

  • Skilled at Peekaboo, I got your nose & shadow puppets
  • Builder of sheet forts & puzzles
  • Lead singer of popular children’s songs & silly made up ones
  • Tea party guest and Play-Doh cake taste tester
  • Master story teller and book reader
  • Knock Knock joke aficionado

Housekeeper

  • Washer of dirty laundry (no sir, that is actually daddy)
  • Dishwasher
  • Sweeps up dried up Play-Doh, glitter, crumbs, chunks of crayon, etc…
  • Wipes up juice spills and potty training accidents
  • Picks up toys, and then picks them up again and then again and again
  • Instructs our little housekeeper in training how to be responsible for all of the above chores

SPECIAL SKILLS

  • Carrying a diaper bag, pocket book, juice boxes and stuffed animal while balancing a child on the hip
  • Giver & receiver of unconditional love
  • Demonstrating patience when my patience wears thin
  • Expert at hugs, kisses & cuddles
  • Mind reader during incomprehensible crying fits
  • References are available in crayon upon request.

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A Mother's Resume

 

Do As I Say, Not As I Do.

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“Do as I say, not as I do” This is the hypocrite’s mantra, an expression abused by parents for years to justify the fact that they are modeling bad behavior. I think about some of the things that I say to my daughter and then think about my own actions. I realized something. I am not always leading by the best example. How can I ask something of my daughter that I don’t always follow myself?

“Pick up your mess.” – I am not sure how I could ever get that statement out with a straight face. As I speak the words out loud, my mind wanders to my unmade bed, the pile of laundry sitting in my hamper & the tumbleweeds of dog hair that just rolled over my feet. I am just waiting for her to say “I’ll pick up my toys when you run a Swiffer over this floor.”

“Don’t say no to Mommy” – No! I said don’t say no. No, don’t shake your head no. No, I said no. Why are you still saying “no” to mommy? Maybe I should try only saying yes.

“No sweets before dinner. It will ruin your appetite.” – These words have been muttered as I ducked behind the kitchen island to pop a handful of Hershey kisses in my mouth.
“Mama, what you eatin?”
“It’s a piece of broccoli, honey. Broccoli is good for dinner.”
I think she bought it. Is there any chocolate on my teeth?

“Don’t yell at the dog” – Perhaps, I raise my voice occasionally at our furry baby.
“DuUuUuUkE!, GET IN THE HOUSE!” “SToOoOOoooP BaRkInG!” “DON’T SNIFF THE BABY’S BUTT!!”
OK, I am definitely to blame for her yelling at our pup. I have however, never put a towel on his back & tried to ride him like a horse. She came up with that one all on her own.

“We have to put your jacket on. It is cold outside.” – I have been known to walk out of my house in the dead of winter with flip flops on. A few years ago I got poison ivy on my chest because I brought in the firewood from outside wearing nothing but a pair of underwear & sneakers. Don’t judge me.

“It’s late, it is time to go to bed” –  I think my daughter has a checklist under her pillow of excuses for why she shouldn’t go to sleep.
“Mama, I need juice for my throat.” Check!
“My tummy hurts, I need a rub.” Check!
“I want a cheese sandwich.” Check!
I think she forgot “Mama, I got a poop in my butt.”
I have a similar list.
The Big Bang Theory marathon is on tonight. Maybe I should do some housework. (I can’t even say that without laughing). I need to write in my blog. So here I am typing away at midnight thinking “Wow, it’s late. I should probably go to bed, but of course I won’t, because I need juice (wine) for my throat too.

If Mai asks I went to sleep at 8 o’clock.

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