My best friend Robyn’s two sons Luke and Chase affectionately refer to her sometimes as “S’Mother.” How terrible– and funny at the same time! She’s a very capable Mom who is ready to pitch in or remind or advise her boys. I don’t see the harm in that! Now that they are both in college (Luke about to graduate this week– congratulations!!! and Chase just finishing his freshman year) she’s pretty much back to doing her own thing and the kids are fine managing theirs, and her husband Jon is probably happy that the “reminding” phase of parenting is finally over, and right down to the wire too– I hear ya, Jon. (Don’t worry. It can be “R” secret!)
Being a Mom does not come with a handbook. It’s challenging and exciting and hard as hell, even if you get lucky and have a peach of a kid like Matty. I know that over the years I’ve made some mistakes and I’ve done my fair share of embarrassing him in front of his friends or at the airport or in a store (Barneys!)– but isn’t that part of our maternal blind spot— thinking that our kids are still little when in fact they have become big, almost overnight?
It’s not like I’ve been Stephanie from the movie A Simple Favor (played by the fab Anna Kendrick) who called her son Smooch in front of his friends– totally cringeworthy! And unlike Stephanie, I never signed up for every school expedition or international potluck lunch, and I certainly didn’t own a helium tank even though Matty loved balloons… still does. (If you didn’t see that movie, it’s a borderline thriller-comedy and one I highly recommend.)
I did accompany Matty and his first-grade class to the Big Apple Circus where I thought it was outrageous that his teacher didn’t even think to bring a snack for all of the kids. So I splurged a big $20 on a few tubs of popcorn to feed the whole chattering bunch. I also went with his fourth-grade group to The Whitney Museum because I too wanted to see the funky exhibits. No, I didn’t buy all the kids Kandinskys in the gift shop on the way out, but we did see some very cool art together. My policy was to be consistently present but not overwhelming.
I do still call Matty by the nickname of Shorty because he was very low to the ground for quite some time and the name just sort of stuck. He says he doesn’t mind, even though he’s almost six feet tall now.
His Dad and I have always called him “The Boy,” an old joke from the Simpsons cartoon, but we say that when talking about him and not directly to him. (A cackling Bart purposely put a small sharp toy at the bottom of the stairs for Homer to step on. So Homer does, Bart thinks it’s hilarious, and Homer screams, “Get me The Boy!”)
I’m not sure that I could ever be accused of being S’Mother, but Matty has called me Momster before– in a loving way of course (right?)! I’ve done my absolute best, which I believe is all I could have done. Now that he’s just days away from a diploma, I can’t believe Shorty is a full-fledged man! But indeed he is.
And when he graduates this weekend, I plan to smother him with hugs, in private of course, and there might be some happy tears. But I promise I will not be calling him Smooch anytime soon.
jenslittleblackbook.com 