On Sharing
I'm not able to blog as much as I did in the past because I have to share the computer. Or, more correctly, I have to share the phone line. Perfect Daughter is in the midst of law school applications, and the essay writing alone takes hours each day online. It's all worth it though, because she has received her first acceptance to a top tier school, along with a full tuition scholarship! So, it's all good.
Um, except for the sharing part.
I don't know why I'm not good at sharing, because I did, after all, grow up with three siblings. Perhaps that IS the reason. Perhaps having every article of clothing up for grabs (there was a family rule that if you found it in your closet, apparently, it was yours. No matter that it got there by mistake. Funny how that was exactly the opposite reaction to finding doggy doo-doo on the living room floor. Yeah, no one claimed that). My sister was three years younger and if MY way-cool 70's style disco shirt was in her closet, she was wearing it that day. Even my brother got into the act, snagging my UT sweatshirt when it was still in the dryer.
Perhaps I don't enjoy sharing because I'm certainly not anyone's ideal of "perfect motherhood". The other day, when Sweet Girl lamented that we were out of Cherry Garcia, and I said, "Mmmmm, it was so good", Perfect Daughter said, "Well, I guess we know if it came down to YOU eating, or your children eating, we know who would get the last biscuit on the life raft". She may be right. I don't like to share my food. I want it ALL. Especially when I am on a diet (and let's face it, Cherry Garcia notwithstanding, I am always on a diet).
So, I'm not happy when my frozen strawberries (bought to take the place of said Cherry Garcia) are taken out of the freezer and munched by 70 pound 10-year-olds. I don't WANT to share.
I don't want to share my covers either. Or my bathroom. I want it all for me. Is it no wonder that no one in the herewegoagain family has nominated me for Mother-of-the-Year? If we are at Sea World, and there is one bandaid, and we all have blisters...I might just justify taking it because, hey, I'm the one who has to carry them out of there. Right? And don't get me started on the last bottle of water. Hey, I'm the one driving. (Which by the way, means I get ALL the M&M's on a road trip. And get to choose the radio station.)
I also firmly believe the mom (me) of the family should ALWAYS get the new car. DH is happy with my castoffs, once he has vacuumed all the french fries out of the back seat, and I'm happy with the new car as long as it's under warranty. Of course, now that I am 46, I'm looking longingly at the Mini Cooper convertibles or the cute Beetle convertibles. Yeah, I know there isn't enough room for my family in them. That's OK. I don't want to share!
I do, however, love to share all the good news. I'm proud of Perfect Daughter and she can have my phone line any time (as long as she quits saying we need to join the new millenium and get high-speed internet). Hey, she'll be a lawyer in three years. I need to stay on her good side.
And, I'm perfectly willing to share my low-fat, no-sugar, nutritionally-bereft-but-calorie-free diet food with anyone in the family. Really. Just don't go near those frozen strawberries.
Um, except for the sharing part.
I don't know why I'm not good at sharing, because I did, after all, grow up with three siblings. Perhaps that IS the reason. Perhaps having every article of clothing up for grabs (there was a family rule that if you found it in your closet, apparently, it was yours. No matter that it got there by mistake. Funny how that was exactly the opposite reaction to finding doggy doo-doo on the living room floor. Yeah, no one claimed that). My sister was three years younger and if MY way-cool 70's style disco shirt was in her closet, she was wearing it that day. Even my brother got into the act, snagging my UT sweatshirt when it was still in the dryer.
Perhaps I don't enjoy sharing because I'm certainly not anyone's ideal of "perfect motherhood". The other day, when Sweet Girl lamented that we were out of Cherry Garcia, and I said, "Mmmmm, it was so good", Perfect Daughter said, "Well, I guess we know if it came down to YOU eating, or your children eating, we know who would get the last biscuit on the life raft". She may be right. I don't like to share my food. I want it ALL. Especially when I am on a diet (and let's face it, Cherry Garcia notwithstanding, I am always on a diet).
So, I'm not happy when my frozen strawberries (bought to take the place of said Cherry Garcia) are taken out of the freezer and munched by 70 pound 10-year-olds. I don't WANT to share.
I don't want to share my covers either. Or my bathroom. I want it all for me. Is it no wonder that no one in the herewegoagain family has nominated me for Mother-of-the-Year? If we are at Sea World, and there is one bandaid, and we all have blisters...I might just justify taking it because, hey, I'm the one who has to carry them out of there. Right? And don't get me started on the last bottle of water. Hey, I'm the one driving. (Which by the way, means I get ALL the M&M's on a road trip. And get to choose the radio station.)
I also firmly believe the mom (me) of the family should ALWAYS get the new car. DH is happy with my castoffs, once he has vacuumed all the french fries out of the back seat, and I'm happy with the new car as long as it's under warranty. Of course, now that I am 46, I'm looking longingly at the Mini Cooper convertibles or the cute Beetle convertibles. Yeah, I know there isn't enough room for my family in them. That's OK. I don't want to share!
I do, however, love to share all the good news. I'm proud of Perfect Daughter and she can have my phone line any time (as long as she quits saying we need to join the new millenium and get high-speed internet). Hey, she'll be a lawyer in three years. I need to stay on her good side.
And, I'm perfectly willing to share my low-fat, no-sugar, nutritionally-bereft-but-calorie-free diet food with anyone in the family. Really. Just don't go near those frozen strawberries.
posted by herewegoagain at
12:01 PM
2 Comments:
Oh good GRIEF! How about this for a change...when I was trying to go to Iowa, among your tears there were several protestations of "PLEASE stay, please, we'll add on or remodel the garage so you have a room...we'll get you you're own desk...we'll even get roadrunner if you'll JUST STAY." Now I find am back...and once again sleeping either on the couch, or one of my sibling's beds every night. All my belongings are STILL in suitcases OR stuffed into the hall closet, and for HEAVEN'S SAKE I probably only use the computer 3 hours a day max, and I'M the one trying to get into law school!!!! Bear in mind Daddy over there has to be on for hours googling paedo-baptism, greek manuscripts and world net daily, and YOU have to amazon.com your beloved Horatio Hornblower or endlessly post on Chihuahua sites...I, however, only want to finish LAW SCHOOL APPLICATIONS!
;-)
All of this, and just remember, I WAS an only. I am NOT used to sharing. And I DON'T like it! I'm used to having my own room, my own space, MY OWN COMPUTER! ;-)
Not to mention the Chihuahua. Yeah, I see you handily forgot to say that you throw me hate glances when she chooses my lap over yours.
:-)
So, are we still on for lunch at Starbucks today? Love you!
By
Anonymous, at 1:40 PM
I don't like sharing the chihuahau.
By
herewegoagain, at 7:45 PM
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