So, if you are anything like me, and I really hope that you are not, you feel a wee bit unorganized after battling a mega-villain, like bronchitis. Major villains really take it out of you, and they take you out of yourself. They ramble on and on about their evil plan; boring everyone in sight. Then, they start pulling in subplots and lesser villains, sometimes to the point of having to purchase tie-in issues. Not cool. Before you know it, every available space in your house is covered in random villain detritus and cough drop wrappers. Now, you have issues 1-5 of Bronchitis; Voiceless Scream. Plus, you have issue 3 of Missing School, issue 6 of Late Credit Card Payment, issues 16 + 18 of Lost Playdate Opportunities, issue 698 of Why are we having Mac and Cheese for Dinner again (getting close to a milestone issue on that one, folks!), issue 13 of Are there any Clean Socks in this House at all, plus the preview issue of Holidays; Don't try to Hide, they are Coming. What a mess! And you have no idea how to catalogue it. Do you put the Bronchitis issues first because he was the main villain, even though you acquired the other issues along the way and well before the last issue of the main arc? Do you do it in the order they showed up at your house? Do you use size? Or something more archaic perhaps? Is it done in alphabetical order? Oh, Readers, I am not Hercule Poirot, or even Miss Lemon. I am like 18 times more disorganized than Captain Hastings. This is well beyond me.
And what is even more beyond me is reclaiming ownership of Awkward Manor once more. It is time for the triumphant return for our hero; she must ride home in glory and reclaim her throne. The throne that has lain listless and lank since her departure, to vanquish the imposing threat to her kingdom. We are in the epilogue of the novel, the final panel of the comic book, the parting crane shot that dissipates into swirling fog and credits. And I will tell you why they do it that way, my lovely Readers. Because thrones that have lain listless and lank are likely pretty gross. It is Lord of the Flies in here. Literally. I have no idea how these flies are getting in or who has flies in October, except maybe Pig Pen from the Charlie Brown Halloween Special. Guess that answers my question. I am Pig Pen from Charlie Brown, Readers. I have finally realized my destiny. Whew. That was easy.
Oh, shoot. I can't be Pig Pen. I have responsibilities, and I have kids. Kids who need to be Pig Pen. Guess I better regroup. So, I have all these villains to catalogue, all these flies to evict, a throne to wash, responsibilities to resume, children to herd, and the ever rolling tide of adult life to surf. OK, guess I should roll up my sleeves and start. Where should I start? That all sounds boring, I don't want to do any of that! How about I make a vision statement for Awkward Mom instead? Yes, that sounds like a great use of time, especially since I decided to allow one more Barney before putting him away, right next to the heavy-duty cold medicine and the Valium.
I'll be honest; it's been awhile since I worked. You know, worked anywhere that might have a vision, or at least one more sophisticated than "Let's try to avoid putting raisins in our noses." In fact, that is the current Awkward Mom Vision Statement. But it might be time to update that one, let's see what I can come up with, eh?
Moderation in All Things.
You wanna know what I mean, I suppose. Man, this is turning into more work than just cleaning the throne. Wanna know why I like moderation, Readers? I'll tell you why; you go up on the roof, all reaching for the stars and whatnot, you are gonna fall off. The view from this moderately sized rock over here is just as nice. Plus, what are you gonna do with stars anyway? Take up too much space, stars do. I'm not telling you (or I guess me, since it is my vision statement) to not be ambitious. I am just telling you (I mean me) to use some sense and not demand perfection (or constant star-grabbing) on this parenting path of yours/mine/ours. For example:
Perfect bedtimes are great. But not on Halloween, Christmas Eve, anytime the Wizard of Oz is on TV, or the nights when Awkward Dad is on call and we have a slumber party in the big bed. So, moderate bedtimes.
Perfect meals are great. But not when Grandma is in town, the circus is in town, when Super Preschooler wants to make a cake at 4pm to "celebrate life", or when everyone gets so excited talking about what animal they would like to be that Super Toddler crawls into the middle of the table (a la lion) and sends the pea bowl flying onto Awkward Dad's head. So, moderate meals.
Perfect attention is great. But not when Mommy needs to read this one thing, or take a short bath, or talk to Awkward Grandma about Super Baby's weird rash, or just needs 2 minutes to herself in the pantry to eat one Cadbury Cream Egg. So, moderate attention.
Perfect discipline is great. But not when one isn't in the perfect conditions described in whichever book one happens to be following at the moment or on the Dr. Phil show. So, moderate discipline.
Perfect expectations are great. But not when hungry, tired, crabby, ages 2-4, not in a sharing mood, or in public. Or when someone is trying their best and that C becomes a symbol of outstanding perseverance, and not average disappointment. Or really, on any day between Monday through Sunday. So, moderate expectations.
Perfect parenting is great. Except it totally isn't.
Therefore, Moderation in all Things shall be the new Awkward Mom Vision Statement.
Well....except for Kindness. Because Kindness is really the only area of your life where you should take a deep breath, climb all the way up onto the roof, lean all the way over the edge, grab up as many stars as you can, and just scatter them all to the winds in glorious, reckless, absurdly abundant abandon. Kindness is a kick off your shoes kind of dance, a throw it all in kind of bet. Kindness should be totally blown on flowers every single chance you get. There is never any reason good enough to be careful with kindness. Therefore, we here in the Awkward Family shall be moderate in all things. Except Kindness. And kisses. Which is basically the same thing anyway.
We want to thank everyone who has been careless with their kindness over this recent battle with Bronchitis. It was not pretty around here and won't be for awhile, or at least until we figure out the flies. Thank you all for your moderate expectations of us!