Sincerely, Mama Bear
Ah, parenthood. I sit here typing, I am slowly recovering from a raw throat and sore body as a result of a full Saturday of family fun. But I feel compelled to type, if only for standing firm in my resolve to seek my own nerdy revenge. That's right, a woman who slighted me has become (dramatic drum roll)....blog fodder.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Mainly to provide me with a little bragging rights, admittedly). I am the ultimate example of living vicariously through my children. I was a super unathletic child. Nothing about this has really changed, come to think of it, since I can still sustain serious injury opening a drawer. Take soccer, for example. I played for three years and never made it past fullback. In three years I could count on one hand how many times I touched a ball during a game. But I made countless dandelion necklaces, and could make the majority of weeds into projectile weapons, so that has to count for something. My five year old is already rocking soccer. Yesterday morning started with his soccer game, in which he scored three goals. Seriously folks, I was a step away from the Mia Hamm dropping to my knees and stripping down to a sports bra while screaming in victory. Thus the raw throat, a day later.
Following the soccer game the family had tickets to the circus. Normally I would attribute this as another aspect of living vicariously, since I had never been to a circus. And these are the kind of things I use having children as an excuse to attend, much like Disney on Ice, Funderland, Disneyland, every animated movie released...you get the idea. But the circus is different because I am horrified of clowns. It's pretty common, really. Characters like Pennywise and monsters like Gacy have truly ruined clowns for me. But my kids are the perfect age for a circus. And I don't want to pass my phobias on to them. So I decided to put on a brave face and tough it out with the family (and there was a bunch of us, since even the 18 year old boy opted to attend, and while I was initally shocked at his willingness to do anything for kids with us his reasoning became apparent the second all of the girls in leotards started performing).
We arrived early. This is unheard of for us, but meant we were able to see the animals outside and go to the pre-show performance inside. Between soccer and all of this scrambling you would have thought the wild boys would have settled down a little bit by the beginning of the show, but you would be horribly mistaken. Enter Madame Blog Fodder.
The family took our seats and the cop opted to go get drinks for us, to help replenish after the exhaustion of the stimulation so far. And the show started, and both boys decided to climb on me, one to see farther and the other to cry because "it's too loud and the dragons are scary and it's dark and daddy is gone" and he was overstimulated and there was no outlet other than clinging to his terrified mother and wailing in agony... Somewhere in the midst of all of this one of the children accidentally bumped into the woman in front of us, Madame Blog Fodder.
A moment to digress, here. My understanding, and I believed the rest of the planet's as well, is that the circus is family friendly entertainment. Families are the majority of attendees, and if you are attending such a function sans children you should probably realize that kids will, in fact, be there and probably not on their best behavior.
Madame Blog Fodder, needless to say, was there with her husband and what appeared to be an adult daughter. And Madame Blog Fodder, she was mighty pissed at being bumped. Well, maybe not the first time, but by the third she actually had the nerve to turn around and glare at my babies for singing and dancing with the show. No, she didn't ask them to stop bumping. Just did the rapid turn around and stare down of my five and three year olds. For real. Just like that Madame Blog Fodder invoked pissed off Mama Bear.
But alas, she was not very clever. Clearly, as evidenced by her belief she'd be in a peaceful spacious environment to watch the circus when she bought that $23 ticket. Just to clarify, folks, I make sure my kids are really good and quiet when they are in the majority of public situations. I get that people without kids don't want to deal with hyperactivity in a restaurant. But there are a few places, like parks and circuses, which allow for children to be a little wild. So when the good Madame glared at my kids I was shocked, and gave her one of the meanest looks in my facial repertoire. It is the one that conveys the whole "I could kill you without flinching and dispose of the body so nobody would find it and still be home to make my kids dinner" look. She seemed to understand that glaring at my kids was not in her best interest for the moment, and glanced away.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I caught her doing it again a little later. I mean really, did she not learn? I had told the boys to be careful not to bump the mean lady in front of us, which I'm sure she heard because I made sure to say it extra loud. So at this point she knew they were trying to be cautious and accidentally bumped her. And again, no asking them or us anything, just the turn around stare down.
There are a few responses that are appropriate, in my belief, in this situation. In order to maintain my freedom and set a good example for the kids, killing the woman was not a viable option. But embarassing her, that was still ok. So when I pulled both boys over and told them, loudly enough for the rows in front of and behind us to hear, "boys, really, this lady in green in front of you is NOT NICE and doesn't want you to bump her" I didn't feel at all bad. And when I provided Gavin with the popcorn he subsequently almost choked on, and slapped him on the back until the chewed up food flew into the seat next to the mean lady, I was again unphased. When Gavin loudly and in a somewhat panicked fashion exclaimed "OH NO, MY SPIT UP POPCORN HIT THE MEAN LADY IN GREEN!" I reassured him that even someone mean enough to glare at little boys would surely understand he was choking and it was an accident. And when she got up and moved seats, I smiled.
Because yes, they are wild boys. But they are MY wild boys, dammit. And at the end of the day, they are really good kids, and nobody is going to ruin the circus for my babies. So let that be a lesson, Madame Blog Fodder. Because if you had just turned around and smiled at my kids and asked them if they could try not to bump you they would have been your best friend and shared their popcorn. But because you decided to try to scare them into submission your face is etched in my memory forever. And if ever we meet again I can promise I will remember you. And you will never, ever be scarier than I am on a daily basis. Good luck.
Sincerely,
Mama Bear
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? (Mainly to provide me with a little bragging rights, admittedly). I am the ultimate example of living vicariously through my children. I was a super unathletic child. Nothing about this has really changed, come to think of it, since I can still sustain serious injury opening a drawer. Take soccer, for example. I played for three years and never made it past fullback. In three years I could count on one hand how many times I touched a ball during a game. But I made countless dandelion necklaces, and could make the majority of weeds into projectile weapons, so that has to count for something. My five year old is already rocking soccer. Yesterday morning started with his soccer game, in which he scored three goals. Seriously folks, I was a step away from the Mia Hamm dropping to my knees and stripping down to a sports bra while screaming in victory. Thus the raw throat, a day later.
Following the soccer game the family had tickets to the circus. Normally I would attribute this as another aspect of living vicariously, since I had never been to a circus. And these are the kind of things I use having children as an excuse to attend, much like Disney on Ice, Funderland, Disneyland, every animated movie released...you get the idea. But the circus is different because I am horrified of clowns. It's pretty common, really. Characters like Pennywise and monsters like Gacy have truly ruined clowns for me. But my kids are the perfect age for a circus. And I don't want to pass my phobias on to them. So I decided to put on a brave face and tough it out with the family (and there was a bunch of us, since even the 18 year old boy opted to attend, and while I was initally shocked at his willingness to do anything for kids with us his reasoning became apparent the second all of the girls in leotards started performing).
We arrived early. This is unheard of for us, but meant we were able to see the animals outside and go to the pre-show performance inside. Between soccer and all of this scrambling you would have thought the wild boys would have settled down a little bit by the beginning of the show, but you would be horribly mistaken. Enter Madame Blog Fodder.
The family took our seats and the cop opted to go get drinks for us, to help replenish after the exhaustion of the stimulation so far. And the show started, and both boys decided to climb on me, one to see farther and the other to cry because "it's too loud and the dragons are scary and it's dark and daddy is gone" and he was overstimulated and there was no outlet other than clinging to his terrified mother and wailing in agony... Somewhere in the midst of all of this one of the children accidentally bumped into the woman in front of us, Madame Blog Fodder.
A moment to digress, here. My understanding, and I believed the rest of the planet's as well, is that the circus is family friendly entertainment. Families are the majority of attendees, and if you are attending such a function sans children you should probably realize that kids will, in fact, be there and probably not on their best behavior.
Madame Blog Fodder, needless to say, was there with her husband and what appeared to be an adult daughter. And Madame Blog Fodder, she was mighty pissed at being bumped. Well, maybe not the first time, but by the third she actually had the nerve to turn around and glare at my babies for singing and dancing with the show. No, she didn't ask them to stop bumping. Just did the rapid turn around and stare down of my five and three year olds. For real. Just like that Madame Blog Fodder invoked pissed off Mama Bear.
But alas, she was not very clever. Clearly, as evidenced by her belief she'd be in a peaceful spacious environment to watch the circus when she bought that $23 ticket. Just to clarify, folks, I make sure my kids are really good and quiet when they are in the majority of public situations. I get that people without kids don't want to deal with hyperactivity in a restaurant. But there are a few places, like parks and circuses, which allow for children to be a little wild. So when the good Madame glared at my kids I was shocked, and gave her one of the meanest looks in my facial repertoire. It is the one that conveys the whole "I could kill you without flinching and dispose of the body so nobody would find it and still be home to make my kids dinner" look. She seemed to understand that glaring at my kids was not in her best interest for the moment, and glanced away.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I caught her doing it again a little later. I mean really, did she not learn? I had told the boys to be careful not to bump the mean lady in front of us, which I'm sure she heard because I made sure to say it extra loud. So at this point she knew they were trying to be cautious and accidentally bumped her. And again, no asking them or us anything, just the turn around stare down.
There are a few responses that are appropriate, in my belief, in this situation. In order to maintain my freedom and set a good example for the kids, killing the woman was not a viable option. But embarassing her, that was still ok. So when I pulled both boys over and told them, loudly enough for the rows in front of and behind us to hear, "boys, really, this lady in green in front of you is NOT NICE and doesn't want you to bump her" I didn't feel at all bad. And when I provided Gavin with the popcorn he subsequently almost choked on, and slapped him on the back until the chewed up food flew into the seat next to the mean lady, I was again unphased. When Gavin loudly and in a somewhat panicked fashion exclaimed "OH NO, MY SPIT UP POPCORN HIT THE MEAN LADY IN GREEN!" I reassured him that even someone mean enough to glare at little boys would surely understand he was choking and it was an accident. And when she got up and moved seats, I smiled.
Because yes, they are wild boys. But they are MY wild boys, dammit. And at the end of the day, they are really good kids, and nobody is going to ruin the circus for my babies. So let that be a lesson, Madame Blog Fodder. Because if you had just turned around and smiled at my kids and asked them if they could try not to bump you they would have been your best friend and shared their popcorn. But because you decided to try to scare them into submission your face is etched in my memory forever. And if ever we meet again I can promise I will remember you. And you will never, ever be scarier than I am on a daily basis. Good luck.
Sincerely,
Mama Bear
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