I am raising a Queen Bee and it flummoxes me.
By my definition, a Queen Bee is a person who doesn't have a conversation with you, she makes pronouncements. She dislikes when you dare disagree with her, but she won't argue with you, instead she will shun you. She leads, not by example, but by fear. Fear of losing her favor, fear of losing her connections. Fear of not having someone to chat with while your kids do whatever extracurricular activity (or in a Queen Bee's case it would be more like activities) you have the precious offspring enrolled in.
There is a Queen Bee that I see a few times a week at one of my progeny's activities. She comes in wearing her mom jeans, hair and makeup looking like she just rolled out of 1989. She is the worst kind of Queen Bee because she doesn't look like what you would normally assume someone who wields such mom-power would. She looks like a dumpy, middle-aged house frau. But then you hear her buzz. It's louder and more assertive than the buzzing from the moms who flock to her. She has firm opinions on everything from where to get the best fruit (no grocery stores for her! You must - MUST - drive to this little farm about 30 miles outside of town. Oh, and tell them that you heard about it from her!) to how to get stains out of Jr. Bee's uniform (NO CLOROX! OMG!). I sit, a few chairs down from where she holds court, and I listen. I have no desire to join the gaggle of moms who swarm around her. I prefer to snicker quietly to myself when she makes one of her declarations while reading my book or, shockingly, actually watching my child participate in class!
I have strong opinions on certain things - but I also strongly believe that there are many different ways to buy fruit, get stains out, parent your children, make a ham sandwich, etc. You like Miracle Whip? I think that shit is vile, but I don't have to eat your sandwich. You formula fed? I breast fed and I believe that it was the right choice for my kids, but your kid doesn't look like he is going to be picking up a banjo and starring in a remake of Deliverance because he sucked down Similac. You like Clorox? Fine. It might yellow your whites, but I don't have to wear them! You want my opinion, I will share it with you if you ask, but I won't demand that you agree that I am right. I won't dislike you if you do it differently.
And then there is Kyra. At 5, she is already buzzing like a Queen Bee. She doesn't walk into preschool. She makes an entrance. She doesn't join in the games that the other kids are playing when we arrive, she announces that they will play a new game and she will decide what that game is. She will tell the assembled group, who swarm around her, that "you will be the daddy, you will be the baby and I'm the mommy, so I'm in charge". She even tries to Queen Bee me. She sighs and rolls her eyes when I don't comply with her demands. "Pick that up mommy" she demanded tonight after she deliberately dropped her jacket on the floor, then she sulks and shuns me when I laugh at her ridiculousness. I like that she is fierce and independent but she needs to learn to be kinder. To ask, not demand. To accept that not everything can be her way. That it's not fair that she believes everything must be shared with her, but that she has to share nothing.
Sometimes I wonder where this child came from. How a worker bee like me (though with some admitted diva qualities that I try to keep under control) gave birth to such Queen Bee. At this point, I just try to keep her buzzing to a minimum and to keep her from stinging anyone. But if she is like this at five, I can't imagine what she will be like at 15. I hope the hive is ready because it is going to be a wild ride.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Mother of the Year awards accepted here
Parenting fails. I has them.
In honor of Mother's Day (yes, I know it was a week ago. Remember, this blog is Random Tales not timely tales) I thought I would list a few of my more spectacular parenting fails - you know, to keep myself humble. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't fail as a parent in the horrible ways. I don't beat my children, or duct tape them to their beds. I make sure they are fed, albeit it's not always a balanced organic meal, but I do my best. They are always dressed in clean clothes - or at least in Blaine's case, they are clean when he gets on the bus in the morning. They are always dressed appropriately for the weather - though in Kyra's case her spectacular dress sense is an eye opening experience. My fails are more of a head-slapping "duh" with the thumb and forefinger in the L shape on the forehead. So, without further ado, here are two of my recent favorite idiot mom stories! Enjoy!
I recently purchased a new car. I love my new car, it's sporty and clean and new new new (it only had 11 miles on it when I bought it. NEW!) One of the perks of the new car is that it came with satellite radio. Now, I've never had satellite radio before and I am loving it. I especially love the station 1st Wave, which is 80s alternative music. I think I must have known, at least subconsciously, that it is uncensored radio as they have a Howard Stern station or two. But for some reason I just didn't think about it. Until I was driving to preschool with Kyra the other morning and she and I were rocking out - I'm talking sound cranked, singing along, Kyra dancing in her car seat rocking out - to the Violent Femmes. To be specific, we were jamming to "Add it Up" by the Femmes. It's a sweet little ditty that starts out with "Why can't I get just one kiss" and works it way up to "Why can't I get just one fuck". It was at that moment, in that nanosecond before "FUCK" came blaring out of my speakers that I realized that this may not be censored so I started frantically trying to find the button to turn off the radio. Of course, too little to late. New car means new button positions and that plus total panic equals my daughter squealing in horror in the back seat "THAT MAN SAID A BAD WORD MOMMY!" Whoops. Parenting fail.
On Mother's Day this year the kids and I went to church together, a happy little family. Our church is a fabulous community and we have time during service where we can share life's milestones - joys, concerns and sorrows. If anyone has something to share, you go forward, light a candle from a communal flame, and share with the congregation. Our town was recently hit by a devastating tornado and many in our congregation were affected. During the Mother's Day service many of our congregation were getting up to share information about volunteering, to give thanks for help received, and to ask for more help. As we are sitting there listening, Blaine, who was sitting behind me, stands up to go get in line to light a candle. I turn to him and through gritted teeth tell him to "SIT DOWN". You see, I assumed that he was going to go up and tell everyone about his mom's new car and I just didn't think it was the time or place. Some people had just lost their homes and they didn't need an 8 year old sharing the joy of mom's new car with the speakers that light up. Blaine looked at me and said "Mom, I really have something I need to share". I glared at him over my shoulder and again told him to sit down. He again told me he needed to go up and share - he just had to! We went back and forth like this until I realized that we were making a little mini-scene in church. At that point I just grimaced and gritted out "FINE. JUST FINE. GO." Then I crossed my arms and prepared myself to be embarrassed by my son.
Blaine's turn comes and I am just hoping that he is done quickly so that I don't have much to apologize for at the end of service. He approaches the flame, lights his candle and says "My name is Blaine and I have a joy to share with everyone". Great. Here it comes. I'm cringing inside. Then "Today is one of my favorite days of the year, because it's Mother's Day and I have the best, most caring and loving and wonderful mother in the world and I'm glad I have this day to celebrate that". Everyone applauds him and I am so overwhelmed with emotion that I am crying. Crying not just because I love my son but because I realize that I need to have the faith in him that he has in me. Parenting fail times one million.
I'm sure there will be more parenting fails in my future. But my kids love me in spite of my failings. Lucky me.
In honor of Mother's Day (yes, I know it was a week ago. Remember, this blog is Random Tales not timely tales) I thought I would list a few of my more spectacular parenting fails - you know, to keep myself humble. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't fail as a parent in the horrible ways. I don't beat my children, or duct tape them to their beds. I make sure they are fed, albeit it's not always a balanced organic meal, but I do my best. They are always dressed in clean clothes - or at least in Blaine's case, they are clean when he gets on the bus in the morning. They are always dressed appropriately for the weather - though in Kyra's case her spectacular dress sense is an eye opening experience. My fails are more of a head-slapping "duh" with the thumb and forefinger in the L shape on the forehead. So, without further ado, here are two of my recent favorite idiot mom stories! Enjoy!
I recently purchased a new car. I love my new car, it's sporty and clean and new new new (it only had 11 miles on it when I bought it. NEW!) One of the perks of the new car is that it came with satellite radio. Now, I've never had satellite radio before and I am loving it. I especially love the station 1st Wave, which is 80s alternative music. I think I must have known, at least subconsciously, that it is uncensored radio as they have a Howard Stern station or two. But for some reason I just didn't think about it. Until I was driving to preschool with Kyra the other morning and she and I were rocking out - I'm talking sound cranked, singing along, Kyra dancing in her car seat rocking out - to the Violent Femmes. To be specific, we were jamming to "Add it Up" by the Femmes. It's a sweet little ditty that starts out with "Why can't I get just one kiss" and works it way up to "Why can't I get just one fuck". It was at that moment, in that nanosecond before "FUCK" came blaring out of my speakers that I realized that this may not be censored so I started frantically trying to find the button to turn off the radio. Of course, too little to late. New car means new button positions and that plus total panic equals my daughter squealing in horror in the back seat "THAT MAN SAID A BAD WORD MOMMY!" Whoops. Parenting fail.
On Mother's Day this year the kids and I went to church together, a happy little family. Our church is a fabulous community and we have time during service where we can share life's milestones - joys, concerns and sorrows. If anyone has something to share, you go forward, light a candle from a communal flame, and share with the congregation. Our town was recently hit by a devastating tornado and many in our congregation were affected. During the Mother's Day service many of our congregation were getting up to share information about volunteering, to give thanks for help received, and to ask for more help. As we are sitting there listening, Blaine, who was sitting behind me, stands up to go get in line to light a candle. I turn to him and through gritted teeth tell him to "SIT DOWN". You see, I assumed that he was going to go up and tell everyone about his mom's new car and I just didn't think it was the time or place. Some people had just lost their homes and they didn't need an 8 year old sharing the joy of mom's new car with the speakers that light up. Blaine looked at me and said "Mom, I really have something I need to share". I glared at him over my shoulder and again told him to sit down. He again told me he needed to go up and share - he just had to! We went back and forth like this until I realized that we were making a little mini-scene in church. At that point I just grimaced and gritted out "FINE. JUST FINE. GO." Then I crossed my arms and prepared myself to be embarrassed by my son.
Blaine's turn comes and I am just hoping that he is done quickly so that I don't have much to apologize for at the end of service. He approaches the flame, lights his candle and says "My name is Blaine and I have a joy to share with everyone". Great. Here it comes. I'm cringing inside. Then "Today is one of my favorite days of the year, because it's Mother's Day and I have the best, most caring and loving and wonderful mother in the world and I'm glad I have this day to celebrate that". Everyone applauds him and I am so overwhelmed with emotion that I am crying. Crying not just because I love my son but because I realize that I need to have the faith in him that he has in me. Parenting fail times one million.
I'm sure there will be more parenting fails in my future. But my kids love me in spite of my failings. Lucky me.
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