Can I be honest with you?

Brutal honesty. If you have a hard time with people being honest with you, and you’re one of those people that need your feelings ‘spared’, I highly recommend that you never become a parent. Just when I’m feeling pretty good about my mothering, and feeling like I’ve got some pretty ‘mad skillz’ in that department, my kids come along and club me up-side the head with something that I’m just not expecting.

This afternoon I was helping Josie practice piano before her lesson. She really has a great ear for music, and has a natural rhythm. So, don’t ask me why I was helping her. I lasted in piano lessons all of about 6 months, at which point I begged my parents to let me quit, even though they had already bought a piano for me. But Marge, the world’s worst piano teacher, called me ‘Tracy’ for every single lesson of that looong six months, even though I corrected her week after week. No wonder I hated it.

Anyway, during practice, I was counting out the notes for Josie, trying to help her keep the beat by snapping my fingers with the count. She finished her song (“Windchimes”), and said, “You know, Mom, its kind of hard when you’re snapping like that.” So, I asked her, “What can I do that would help you?” thinking that perhaps I was going a little too quickly. Her nonchalant answer? “Um…you could probably help by being quiet.” Ouch…

And last week? When the kids and I were dancing around the kitchen to ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’ by Depeche Mode? Yes, I know… major flashback…but they love that song. (Who am I kidding? So do I.) The very same child was sweet enough to tell me… “Um, Mom? Your dancing is kind of freaking me out. Just thought I’d mention it.” OH MY GOD!!!! She’s only 8 years old. Surely it’s too early for her to be that embarrassed by her mother? Well, she’d better just get ready… now I can’t wait to chaperone all those junior high dances.

Sometimes, it’s a compliment that is delivered in such a way as to knock you down a peg or two. A few nights ago, Davis asked his dad to draw a scorpion for him. Phil did what he usually does when a request is made for him to be artistic…. “Why don’t you ask your mom to draw you a scorpion? She’s much better than I am.” (too true) Now, I am a fairly decent artist. I have been known to paint a mural or two in my time, and on occasion, people have actually paid me (actual money!) for said mural. So I took pencil in hand, and using my vast memory of arthropods (ahem…that’s what a scorpion is), I drew a damn nice looking scorpion.

Pretty proud of my efforts and expecting effusive praise from my son (seriously, can YOU draw a scorpion?), he took one look at it and marveled, “Wow, Mommy, you’re really not horrible at drawing scorpions!”

Gee, um… thanks? Can’t you just feel the love?