Monday, March 15, 2010

Non-Working Mom

I've been pissing little kid off a lot lately; so much so that he told me the other day that he wished he had a different mumum. I pointed out how incredibly rude that was and angrily asked how he would feel if I walked around saying I wished I had a different baby. "It would hurt your feelings, wouldn't it?"

"Um, I mean a toy mumum. I want a mumum who is a toy instead of a real one." He said it sort of sarcastically, like I wasn't smart enough to figure out what he had meant the first time, but I think he felt bad and realized being replaced by a toy would be less hurtful than competing with a real person.

I pointed out that if he had a toy mom, he would have broken her long ago and that I have had many toy babies and had had better luck with those.

Today as we walked to the community pool, he was telling me all about how his work friend's mom died and how he hoped he would get a new one soon and that she would be nice.

(Did I tell you all that the work friends who were eaten by polar bears are back from being dead? And that they live in this neighborhood and he was going to have to help them move but they ended up having enough people? That they have 25 Transformer trucks and that they paved all of the roads and sidewalks in our new community? I haven't met them but they sound pretty amazing.)

I told him that it didn't really work that way and have been wondering ever since if he's been thinking about replacing me. Getting laid off from two jobs in a row would really suck.

He was completely overjoyed to hear that I would no longer be working. He hooted and hollered and cheered as I tried to smile through tears. I did present it as a good thing, "Hey, I don't have to work any more!" but he would have taken it that way no matter what, even though it didn't change things too drastically for him anyway since I was only working part time from home.

The other day I was taking a bath and I heard him tell Mr. Ashley, "I can always count on my mom and dad." (He says heart-meltingly sweet stuff like this all the time. I think it's a survival instinct.)

"Awwww, that's right. You can always count on your family," Mr. Ashley answered.

"I only wish you guys didn't have wook," he said, sounding sad.

"But mama doesn't work any more!"

"Yeah, but she been lookin' for a new job and I don't like my mumum wookin. I like her just bein' my mumum."

That was one of the days I didn't have internet and took him to our vacant house to borrow some wireless. He kept asking why I had to be on the computer if I didn't have to work and I told him I was looking for work. He had no reaction at the time, but it broke my heart to hear that it had bothered him.

I jumped right out of the tub to hug him and promise him that I was just looking for writing jobs that would let me stay home with him and to tell him that I love being his mom. Yay! he said.

Sweet, right?

Then several days later in the car he said, "Mumum, you could use Big Kid's 'puter. To look for a job. I know you don't got a good 'puter now but Big Kid does."

I felt crushed that he was worrying about it. Although I bitch here, there and everywhere about all kinds of stuff, I truly do try to shield the kids from my worries.

"It's okay, honey. I'm not even worried about a job that much, you know? Summer's coming, we'll go to the beach and the pool..."

"I'm sayin' maybe you can get a job."

"Baby, don't worry about it! You're being so silly. Daddy has a good job and we have everything we need. I don't want you--"

"If you had a job you could buy me some toys."

And then it all made sense. Moments earlier I had refused to buy him an Avatar toy from Publix and that was enough to end the "I'm so glad my mumum doesn't wook!" phase of his life.

I wouldn't take him to the zoo the other day (because we had been to the zoo the day before) and he again suggested that I get a job.

It really is a lot like an abusive relationship--with him as the abuser. He's controlling and manipulative and hates to let me out of his sight.

It's a good thing he provides an endless supply of comedic material, cuddling and compliments.

5 comments:

Duel Living said...

He's got you wrapped around his lil' finger...good thing he's so damn cute!

JKH said...

Oh man. Not to make light of how little kid treats you...but I had to comment on the 'work friends.'

My younger brother had imaginary frogs growing up. Like Little Kid's work friends, these frogs would come and go, die and multiply, and finally went away when he was about four.

Then, three years later, I was heading out the door to go to school and he SCREAMED bloody murder. He informed me that his frogs were "back from California" (We grew up on the east coast and he had never been out west) and were "parading" through the front door. Apparently there were over a hundred Californian frogs (one brought his surf board), and I was walking all over them.

My brother is in his 20s now and still gets super defensive when we "talk trash" about his frogs.

I suggest you ask Little Kid to ensure his work friends have their working papers. They might be around for a while.

Jennifer said...

Isn't it crafty how they are always sweet right at the moment that they need to be.

Ashley said...

JKH, the imaginary frogs are hysterical. I hadn't even considered how much fun all of these stories will be in 25-30 years. I just hope the imaginary work friends are gone by then.

Mom Taxi Julie said...

sounds like my teenager minus the comic relief.