Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Proof I Am The Worst, Spoiler!!!!! Edition. Or, Busted! by Allison

So in case I need further evidence that I totally fail at mandatory parenting things (Spoiler!!!!!)
like the Tooth Fairy,


1. Spoiler!
Send your children away!
For many reasons, they should not be reading this.
They should read Shel Silverstein or Jane Austen.

2. And Helpful Tip Plus Spoiler!!!
Don't hand your child Judy Blume's book Superfudge unaware.
If your child has not been informed by a spoilsport kid or a drunk uncle,
Judy Blume's book about the Total Spoiler Involving The Red Suited Jolly Fellow And Tiny Reindeer will most certainly bring on the Bah Humbug.

3. Proof Of Spoiler!!!
That book is how I found out about above referenced holiday lies we tell children.
I was taking a bubble bath and reading,
which is a lifelong habit of mine,
and I was reading Superfudge, and -

4. Spoiler!!!!!
I learned that bit of information on what is real or not real.

5. And stormed down the stairs,
 in bathrobe, brandishing the book over my head in indignant fury,
throwing a giant fit about How It Is Wrong To Lie To Children.

This is remembered by all, because I made a scene. 
But who puts that Spoiler!!! in a children's book?

6. Anyway, I have managed to keep Superfudge out of the girls' hands and not fail at Christmas.
And as I told E when she asked me about Spoiler!!!!! on the ride home from ballet one day,

7. "There is a kid that ruins it for everyone.
That kid is remembered forevermore as a cruel and monstrous being.
Do you want that to be you?
I love the twinkly lights and all the fun, it remains awesome, trust me.
At least you didn't find out while taking a bubble bath and reading!"

(Interjection by younger E here: "Really? You read in the tub even then?")

8. Anyway,  it is both a shocking way to find the Spoiler!!!!! out and a memorable Young Allison And Her Tantrums story that I cannot live down, ever.


So just now, V hands me a molar, from out of her mouth.
She has always done that.
As a toddler on the changing table, she'd just pull out a tooth and hand it to me.

That is her demeanor in most situations, she doesn't Make A Big Deal Out Of Everything.
Is awesome.
Because some of the rest of us in this house have different temperaments.

Anyway, I would receive tooth,
and attempt pitifully to mark it in Way Too Complicated And Nobody Cares About Which Tooth Was Lost When, Freaky Baby Book.

(Note: I wrote down the first three teeth or so.
The rest is blank.

For E's baby book,  I made everything up,
because I know someday she will nostalgically look through her baby book,
note the empty parts,
and harass me about it.

M's baby book is still shrink wrapped.
You know how everybody tells you the youngest kid has no baby book?
I Smug Mommy thought I would  prove everyone wrong.
Shrink-wrapped, and I don't even know where it is.)

So just now V hands me the tooth,
and what has always cracked me up is that Matt is an actual medical doctor with degrees,
and yet, he is so grossed out by loose teeth or freshly plucked tooth that he runs screaming.

I am like, oh, ok. Tooth.
(Internally: Note to self, do not forget about the Tooth Fairy.)

V is twelve,
but when she was little, I was a lunatic,
(Proof: http://www.iwantanintern.com/2012/10/ditch-sugarplum-fairy-and-pony-but.html)

and I'd do this ridiculous, elaborate thing where I taped quarters and drew a rainbow or a caterpillar or whatever I could make out of quarters.

This was absurd because:
1. I cannot draw
2. I never have quarters
3. I will be sleepy or reading or dealing with another baby and forget
4. I suck at this stuff

Of course, I cannot keep up the arts and crafts.
Eventually, a dollar shows up, if I write all over my hands to remember even that.

I tried my best, I swear.
And I have letters from the girls to the Tooth Fairy -

(I save them as proof that at some point in time, I did not flail at this parenting task.
 I keep them in a folder along with the "You're The Best Mom Ever" cards and notes. 
The latter I trot out routinely as Defense Exhibit A,
 whenever the girls start telling me I am the worst mom ever.)

But it is exhausting, all this remembering of stuff.
Forms, wash the dance clothes, where is the bad dog?
Sometimes, I totally forget.

That is the worst, because you have to fake the looking through the bedsheets -
 and Lo, and Behold!
Look it was here the whole time!
And that sham gets old.

To avoid this scenario, I do two things:

1.  Ask Matt to stay up and handle the delivery - this is always met with a resounding "Wha?????" face.
It gets too tedious to explain the whole thing, especially when I was doing those arts projects with quarters, so I huff off.

2. And do the thing I have been busted for at least five times - rush the delivery.

You know, all tip-toe, shhhhh?

And I am met with a big blue eye snapping open, five inches from my head as I try to shove stuff under the pillow?

The first time that happened, I was a rookie.
I screamed and ran out of the room.

That is not playing it cool.

Now, I pretend I am kissing them or smoothing their hair down.

They are on to me, but we all just pretend otherwise.

The worst and saddest is when their eyes kind of open and then squeeze shut,
 to spare me the indignity of being Worst Tooth Fairy Ever.

But tonight, we sank to an even more pitiful level.

V hands me her molar.
I take a picture of it and text it to Matt, because I know he will be horrified and grossed out.
(Note: He was totally horrified and grossed out! I am always right.)

And then I am like, "Do you see my purse?"

She hands me my wallet, and I feel like this was lacking in a magical, special quality.

So I make her go in her room and shut her eyes while I put money under her pillow.

She starts laughing,
and I am like "What?
You are the one summoning forth my hideously inept Tooth Fairy.
Don't tell your sisters. "

And she's like, "Mom. You are the worst Tooth Fairy."

And I am all, "Oh really? You know others?
And I think I am going to take back my money and huff off in a Tooth Fairy Tantrum."

And she's like, "No. I mean, if you wanted it to be a surprise when I was younger, you shouldn't have done art. "

And I am all "Don't make fun of my art.
I realize it is woefully subpar compared to you, but no mocking me,
especially when I was shaking the sofas for quarters to make caterpillars for your youthful delight and enjoyment."

And she is all "It's not the art.
It's that twice you put it on the back of E's preschool homework."

And I am all, "I did?????
I did that TWICE?"

And she is all, "At least twice.
It was kind of obvious at that point."

And I am all, "Ug."

And she was like, "It's OK, Mom. It will be funny one day."

And I ask "How long have you been on to me?"
With a twinkle in her eye, she says, "Does it matter? That was my last tooth."

Well played, V. Well played.