Friday Rant

The thought for today is the mother’s curse. You know the one. Out of sheer exhaustion and desperation, Mom utters the famous words, “I hope one day you have a child just like you so you will have some idea of what you put me through.” It is as clear today as it was the first time she said it.

Some eight years ago, the mother’s curse came to plague me. It actually began much earlier, the usual nine months, but not many consider this time a time of aggravation from the mom’s-curse-factor. I disagree. All those months I carried this little one in my tummy I knew she was to be the one who grew up as I did – my mother’s curse. The constant kicks and jabs in all the wrong places at all the wrong times haunt my memories.

These days, my adorable 8-year-old pushes the envelope. She is the never-ending night owl – like mother, like daughter. The morning ritualistic argument begins the minute I drag her backside from bed after working so vehemently to drag my own out of bed. “But why do I have to go to school this early?” “I don’t want to get up; I need my sleep.” “Mommy, go away.” These are but a few of the quick quips I hear every day. The eldest child tries desperately to help. She is up almost two full hours before anyone else. Her treatment is much worse than my own since little sis’ knows she can get away with harsher language. Granted it is along the lines of, “Leave me alone or I’ll sic my stuffed bunny on you.” Still, it is but one of the familiar threats I can remember using all those years ago.

Consolation is near, however. Tomorrow is Saturday. Everyone can sleep in tomorrow. The strange thing is that the disagreeable little one will be up with the birds to watch morning cartoons without argument or alarm. Strange how that works isn’t it?

Familial curses and cantankerous pre-teens…. So much changing around the globe yet so much remains the same. It’s a strange, strange, strange, strange world.