One of the greatest joys of being a mother is being able to irritate, pester if you will, my child.
It is sick I know, but it is me.
I’m good at pestering.
Really good!
Just ask my mom, or my dad, or my siblings or…well…anyone who knows me.
But most of all… ask my nine year old.
This is her life, the one she has been dealt, the one she must endure, all because she was born of my loins.
Her: That smells good mom, what is that smell?
Me: Dinner
Her: What is for dinner?
Me: Food
Her: Moooom, what kind of food.
Me: Well, some meat, some veggies, some type of fruit. Ya know,(pause) food.
Her: Mooooooooom would you just tell me what you are cooking.
Me: Dinner
Her Moooooooooooooom, geez
It is the “mooooooooom” reaction that I am waiting for. I love it, I thrive on it. It is what gives me the giggles and makes my world a happy place.
I just love to pester her, but ya know, she loves it too. It is part of our relationship, it is part of US.
She climbs in bed on Saturday mornings just waiting for me to wake up and pester her….no kidding….she does.
She waits for me to make spiders or bees out of my hands and attack her while she tries to “kill” my spider or “swat” my bee. She will giggle and wiggle and swat away while I tickle and giggle and make my world a happy place.
There are times though when my pestering evokes eye rolls from her, but even those times are fun for her too….well, at least I tell myself that.
Like when she has on a polka dot shirt and I just can’t help myself.
Really I can’t… and I know you see this one coming from a mile away….but I have to poke……every single stinking DOT on her clothes.
“moooooooooooom” she says as she wiggles away…”stop mom…mom geez, stop.” Then she giggles and pokes me back… and my world is a happy place.
Or when I sing at the top of my lungs and start dancing in the kitchen to her ipod songs while her friends are watching.
“Moooooooom, geez you are weird.” *eye roll*
Her friends tell her she has a cool mom, she tells them she has a weird mom. She will say “She even dances in the stores.” Her friends tell her they wish their moms danced and sang and giggled with them like her mom does.
And she says “Yeah, but she is sooooo weird.”
Which is true…I pretty much act weird everywhere.
Because, well, I pretty much AM weird.
And I love it.
It is sick I know, but it is me.
I’m good at pestering.
Really good!
Just ask my mom, or my dad, or my siblings or…well…anyone who knows me.
But most of all… ask my nine year old.
This is her life, the one she has been dealt, the one she must endure, all because she was born of my loins.
Her: That smells good mom, what is that smell?
Me: Dinner
Her: What is for dinner?
Me: Food
Her: Moooom, what kind of food.
Me: Well, some meat, some veggies, some type of fruit. Ya know,(pause) food.
Her: Mooooooooom would you just tell me what you are cooking.
Me: Dinner
Her Moooooooooooooom, geez
It is the “mooooooooom” reaction that I am waiting for. I love it, I thrive on it. It is what gives me the giggles and makes my world a happy place.
I just love to pester her, but ya know, she loves it too. It is part of our relationship, it is part of US.
She climbs in bed on Saturday mornings just waiting for me to wake up and pester her….no kidding….she does.
She waits for me to make spiders or bees out of my hands and attack her while she tries to “kill” my spider or “swat” my bee. She will giggle and wiggle and swat away while I tickle and giggle and make my world a happy place.
There are times though when my pestering evokes eye rolls from her, but even those times are fun for her too….well, at least I tell myself that.
Like when she has on a polka dot shirt and I just can’t help myself.
Really I can’t… and I know you see this one coming from a mile away….but I have to poke……every single stinking DOT on her clothes.
“moooooooooooom” she says as she wiggles away…”stop mom…mom geez, stop.” Then she giggles and pokes me back… and my world is a happy place.
Or when I sing at the top of my lungs and start dancing in the kitchen to her ipod songs while her friends are watching.
“Moooooooom, geez you are weird.” *eye roll*
Her friends tell her she has a cool mom, she tells them she has a weird mom. She will say “She even dances in the stores.” Her friends tell her they wish their moms danced and sang and giggled with them like her mom does.
And she says “Yeah, but she is sooooo weird.”
Which is true…I pretty much act weird everywhere.
Because, well, I pretty much AM weird.
And I love it.
