The mom slide...

So, I was the third kid. Third kids are different. They're funny. They're bold. They're totally unsupervised. I was out and about playing with matches and blowing up anthills with ladyfingers and blackcats. Had there been a fourth kid in the family it would likely be dead. Probably in some kind of fantastical bike riding explosion. (Combining my like of fire, my brothers bike crashing ability and my sisters general accident proneness, odds are I'm correct there.)

I've noticed that yes, I got a little looser with the kids - between #1 and #2. There isn't a #3. No need to be looking at myself at the breakfast table. Knowing that she's lying straight to my face but having no way to prove it... Nope, don't need that. Stopped at two. For my own mental health.

In the beginning though, with #1... the house was baby proofed. So baby proof that I was frustrated most of the time at my inability to get the cabinets opened. The food was organic. The clothes are organic cotton. The house surgical sterile.

The second one. Well, she's smart. Very smart. And, she had life figured out pretty early. Nothing was baby proofed. If something pinches your fingers, well, don't put them back in there... Clothes, well, the cute ones. Organic cotton doesn't usually come with the amount of glitter that she requires. Food? Whatever was on sale.

Pretty sure they'll both be just fine.

Minecraft cake.

Tinkerbelle for Tink.

Always homemade for the birthday cakes. Sometimes very ornate, up most of the night cakes. Well, this year... this year they had store bought. Mostly because they didn't really want anything specific. So, I just bought a cake. Or maybe even cupcakes. Oh man, I don't even remember! I do remember being upset about it at the time and feeling guilty. A very good friend, a straight shooter, said, 'Oh, honey, you've got to let that shit go. They're happy with that crappy cake.'



And, she was right. They were happy. No permanent damage done. Probably.

And, now as Halloween rolls around... well, they'll be putting on their Amazon Prime costumes. They seem happy with what they picked. Online. We didn't even go out shopping. I am happy with the level of effort. I guess it's a win.

But, it feels like a slide. The mom slide. There are things that I am just over. So. Over. Took #2 to the Fall Festival last week. She had a blast. I wrote a blog in my head while doling out tickets so she could do the cake walk and go 'fishing'. I got to thinking that this probably happens to a lot of parents. Sometimes you just have to phone it in. But, wait... what if my parents were phoning it in? Were they not really that stoked to watch me play ball or take me trick or treating or play some game or listen to some joke or impression? What about when I asked my mom to 'watch this' at least 900 times every time we were in a pool? Was she really not that into it?

Oh. My. God. My mom guilt has just spun out of control.


I think that I've somehow ruined my own childhood.

Shit.

Phoning. It. In.