Doing my job as a mom sometimes requires me to be rather mean. I’m forced to make decisions that will inevitably be disliked by my underage crowd. I don’t want to be mean. I don’t want to fight and have to explain myself and listen to the crying that is for sure to come with each no.
There are just some things that aren’t going to happen over here at our house. There aren’t going to be cell phones for middle schoolers. There aren’t going to be first-person shooters for grade schoolers. There aren’t going to be week night sleep overs or crack for breakfast. It’s just not going to happen.
I think for the most part I’m pretty nice. I let friends come over, pretty much whenever. We have dessert rather frequently. I let the kids run in the house and for the most part be loud and obnoxious. Though the kids think I’m a slave driver, I think I’m pretty easy on the chores. Bed times are rather lax too. We usually have a full cookie and candy jar. I’m pretty nice, really, I am.
Now that we homeschool, I not only have to be the mean mom, but also the mean teacher. There are some days when I’m disliked all day long, from the moment they wake up until they go to bed. I have five kids, it’s just statistics that someone is going to be upset at some point during the day. I’m sorry, but just because I let you go to school in your jammies doesn’t mean you’re not going to have to learn something. Learning isn’t always easy, sometimes I can sneak it in, but sometimes it’s impossible. Like when you’re eleven, learning about prepositional phrases can’t be all fun and games.
Overheard:
McKayla (to her friend): I guess homeschool is okay. It would be great except there aren’t any cute boys and it’s hard!! I mean, my mom makes me read these books that you have to really read you can’t skim it or anything and she expects me to you know know stuff! I have to answer all the questions too! Poor poor baby. When she’s literate one day, maybe she’ll thank me. I keep telling myself that when I do something unpopular.