mother logic – The Saucy Mama

Elf NOT on My Shelf

December 8, 2022January 15, 2023Posted in TSMTagged boy mom, christmas, elf on the shelf, holiday stress, holidays, mom life, mother logic, motherhoodLeave a comment

‘Tis the season to be jolly…and stressed out and overwhelmed with holiday to-do lists. Sometime in the last fifteen-ish years, moms across the country (maybe the world; I don’t know) have been moving a creepy little doll around their house to encourage their children to be on their best behavior. While the concept is good in theory, the perceived one-upmanship that parents (mostly moms) engage in to have said elf end up in different silly positions every morning is a little too much for me.

Every year since I’ve had my boys, I’ve hemmed and hawed about introducing the red velvet-clad whimsical creature into our home, but then I see all the scenarios that my girlfriends, acquaintances, and perfect strangers create for the doll, and I tap out. While acknowledging their creativity, I also see the mess I would have to clean up. I get tired just looking at the toys spread from the living room to the toy room, not to mention the toy room itself. I look at those chaotic, albeit funny, scenes and think, “Nope. I don’t want to clean that up.” Hence, we don’t have an elf on our mantle, in our pantry, or emerging from the toilet tank…

I also think it’s a weird lesson in voyeurism that I don’t need to teach my boys. There are already enough places in the world for them to get questionable messaging. Teaching them that this doll is doing recon for Santa Claus, so they better behave, doesn’t quite sit well with me. Hell, I’m grateful that they haven’t started asking questions about the big guy yet because that’s another mind fuck that I don’t want to explain. My kids ask questions. They want to understand. They’re kind of unique and annoying that way. Also, poor J already told me he’s afraid of the dark. I don’t need to give him another reason to look over his little shoulder.

I can also say with 97% certainty the whole elf thing will backfire on me. C and J will find different places for the elf to hide, and I won’t be able to find it. I’m still looking for one of J’s water bottles that he used FOUR DAYS ago!

So no, there is not now nor will there ever be a spritely elf on any self in this household. I wish hearty good luck to all the parents who partake in this tradition. I’ll be over here watching the inventive disorder on my cell phone as I avoid my last-minute shopping until the last minute and try to keep the kids away from the gifts that have already been purchased.

The Family that Screams Together, Stays Together

November 1, 2022January 15, 2023Posted in TSMTagged boy mom, mom life, mother logic, motherhoodLeave a comment

When my brothers and I were kids, my mother had this saying that she’d use whenever we were impatient, stubborn, or whiny: “When God was handing out [insert frustrating behavior], you were first in line.” It usually garnered a shrug, smirk, or eye roll from my brothers and me. Now that I have my own children, I find this phrase running through my mind multiple times a day.

When my children were being molded, they were given a robust set of lungs that they use recklessly. After their stubbornness, their scream is their biggest…asset, I guess. Their favorite time to scream is…well, any time, really. For this post, I’ll focus on whenever we have to take something from them, either because they refuse to share, they’ve done something wrong, or it’s time for bed.

One minute everyone’s cool, then the fighting starts. Once my husband and I go in to intervene then, the screaming starts. You would like that we’d tied them to a chair, and we’re pulling their fingernails out with a pair of pliers. Sometimes I look at them and think, “What is this? Why does taking a toy amount to a torture session for me?”

Depending on how close to the end of my rope I’m feeling, I start screaming right along with them. The first time I did this with my older son — who will now be referred to as C — he had shock written all over his face. It was palpable. I stopped screaming about a second after he did. We stared at each other for five seconds, and then he busted out with the biggest fit of laughing I’d ever seen. He laughed so much that he fell over. And I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Sometimes now, we just scream with each other for the heck of it. Once my younger son — who will forever be referred to as J — caught on to our game (after looking at C and me like we were nut jobs), he joined in too.

This little cathartic screaming game does not always stop them from screaming like bloody murder when they don’t get their way. At least diffusing the situation can be stress-relieving for me too.

Old Wives and Their Tales

December 4, 2018January 15, 2023Posted in TSMTagged baby boy, haircuts, man bun, mother logic, motherhood, old wives, old wives talesLeave a comment

One of the joys of motherhood is learning from my mother. Some of her lessons, though, make me think she might be insane. Recently, my husband and I took our little guy for his first haircut, much to the chagrin of my mother. He’s less than a year old and, in her mind, to have his hair cut before he turns one is blasphemous.

I will admit I was hesitant to do it. Heck, hubby wanted to do it when he was four months old, but for practical reasons, like his head was still wobbly and he couldn’t sit up on his own, I convinced him we had to wait. I finally caved a few weeks before Thanksgiving when we realized the little guy could now rock a man bun. Or would it be a baby bun? I digress…

I took before and after photos and filmed the whole experience, and shared it with our family. My mother immediately called and asked why we did it and said now he isn’t going to talk. My husband and I exchanged a “She’s cray cray” and moved the conversation along. Then she thought that his hair protected his soft spot, a more logical reason not to cut his hair so young. But the damage was already done. We didn’t buzz the whole thing like my husband wanted but instead trimmed it up so at least it all laid flat, and it didn’t look like he was trying to channel Albert Einstein.

It’s important to note that my family is West Indian, so there are old wives’ tales galore. So many, in fact, as I try to think of some to share right now, they are all getting jumbled in my head. Maybe that’s because I ate something that one time that now affects my cognitive thought.

I know that if my son talks as much as he babbles, we’re probably going to wish there was some truth to the whole haircut thing.