Five on Friday: Mother of the Year 2022

Friends, it may only be February but it is never too early to think about your nominations for Mother of the Year. Not to brag or anything, but I believe I am off to a strong start. I think once you read the list of some of my parenting highlights from just the past six weeks, you'll agree that I am a viable candidate this year. Again.

1. Me: So it's just going to be you and B for dinner here tonight.

13-year-old son: What about E? Isn't he coming home from practice soon?

Me: Oh yes. You have another sibling that will be here for dinner that I absolutely did not forget about.

(Again, I am not trying to be boastful, but I feel like I must point out that the above happened mere days into the new year. This yearly campaign never rests.)

2. When the 11-year-old insisted she no longer liked peas . . . even peas drenched in homemade chicken potpie scrumptiousness . . . I taught her a poem I remembered from my childhood:

I eat my peas with honey,

I've done so all my life.

It makes the peas taste funny, 

but it keeps them on my knife.

And then, yes. Yes she did.
Encouraged *and* filmed by yours truly.

3. Me: Hm, where is 15-year-old son running his meet today anyway? Is he in Staten Island again? Or . . . somewhere else? 

(Then instead of checking the schedule online, I just do a real quick "find my phone" check and see that his location is listed as at a medical center in NYC. Commence keeping the freak-out mildly in check as I begin casually texting other parents to find out who is at the meet. Which brings us to  . . .  )

4. Parent A: I'm not there today. What is he running today?

    Parent B: We're here! What's he running today?

By this time I have thankfully heard back from my child who is actually at the meet and not the hospital which is great because I had no idea what race he was running and so I could ask him and answer the other parents instead of admitting that I didn't know I was worried that he was injured and nobody was telling me.

5.  Me: Hm, everyone else with 8th graders is posting on social media about taking their kids to the high school for an appointment with the counselor and I do not remember trashing getting that email.  I guess I'll just call tomorrow.

(post-script: I called the office and found it was the LAST day to make appointments! Got one by the skin of our teeth. Can't wait to see what happens in two years when our fifth kid is on her way to the High School!)