Monday, June 3, 2013

And the Winner of the Loser Mom of the Year Goes To.........

I love Facebook as it's glaringly obvious to most who know me. BUT I also secretly hate it on the days I am reminded that I suck as a parent.

I see the FabMoms post the first day of kindergarten pic, along side the last day of high school pic. I didn't do that for my oldest last year. I'm pretty sure I took a first day of kindy pic for him, but it was probably a polaroid and it's in a box somewhere in a closet somewhere in my house..... somewhere. He couldn't care less, but it bugs me that my creativeness was on hiatus and, let's be honest, I probably just got lazy.

Facebook reminds me that I am no Betty Crocker. Again, FabMoms posting pics of these amazing birthday and graduation cakes. Like, seriously? Even if they mortgaged their house to have them made, it's ridiculous. These cakes are masterpieces of layered fabulosity. My youngest's birthday is coming up. If he's lucky I'll remember to call Walmart bakery in time. And if he's even luckier, they will have a cooler, more up-to-date looking Spiderman. Chances are I'll remember the day before and he will be stuck with 2001 Spiderman. Again. BUT don't hate on Walmart cakes. Their buttercream icing is the bomb diggity, not to mention, they always kindly hook me up last minute when I go to them in complete desperation. However, I can totally see them judging me. Hell, they probably whip up a homemade 3 tier-Spiderman swinging from top to bottom-saving a damsel in distress cake for their own children and look down on the Walmart-cake-moms. Bite me, people. It's cake.

Facebook reminds me I am unable to volunteer enough at my kids schools. Here's a selfie of FabMom in her kid's class, reading, and doing crafts. Is that my kid in the background jumping off a desk due to Mom-volunteer-abandonment issues? Today is the last Monday of the 4th grade for my baby. Next year is my last year and opportunity to redeem myself as a parent in Elementary School, because, let's face it, it's all downhill after that. They no longer want you to have lunch with them, attend awards day, or exist, for that matter. I solemnly swear to mark my calendar to be more active and show you people, by taking a selfie with some kids standing behind me and your kid jumping off a desk, that I, too, can be FabMom.

And I will vow to make a 10 year old birthday cake. Look, I made a mean Blues Clues cake.

12 years ago.

I can channel that Betty Crocker and post that shit on Facebook too.

And I'd post a first day vs. last day of school picture, but they'll be with their dad on Friday. Darn.

Truth is you'd see my slackassedness over the course of 180 school days.

First day of school - new shoes, new outfits, new haircuts.
Last day of school - same shoes (too small), athletic shorts/ragged shirts and bushy-we-went-to-the-beach-instead-of-getting-haircuts look. And snot.

Some things are best left unposted.

So I admit I've slacked off slightly. Give me a break, there's so darn many of them. I'm exhausted.